


10 Easy Steps to Win the Heart of your Dreamgirl before you're shot by Survivors

by Left4Shade-Due (ShadeDuelist)



Category: Left 4 Dead
Genre: F/M, Gen, Infected-centered, Infection, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeDuelist/pseuds/Left4Shade-Due
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...Life had been boring for Kenny: work, shun people, have a nice time with the handful of friends he had, get hated by his sister and kicked around at the job...  He met a woman in a flash, a woman that had him falling like a ton of bricks.</p><p>Anyway, that was on a Wednesday.  Now, it's Sunday, two weeks later, and the world's changed.  And Kenny along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Step 0)

Prologue (Step 0): I need a Dream Lover

 _Well hi.  My name’s Kenny – it’s not short for Kenneth, in case you’re wondering.  Kenny Greene.  Pleasure to meet you.  I’d shake your hand if I weren’t… well, let’s just say I don’t really_ trust _people a lot.  …It’s not you, it’s me, I can assure you that.  You’re probably a great person, really great and smart and… well, and everything else you can be.  But fact is, I just… don’t really like others.  Call it instinct, call it paranoia, call it whatever you want – I don’t care what you call it.  I just call it common sense._

 _Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m not some kind of antisocial jerk.  I just don’t like people.  I’ve never been treated really kindly by others, so I tend to…_ not _put myself out there for them.  I have friends – people I’ve known forever, people that I trust with my life.  People that didn’t treat me like crap, and that never would treat me like crap.  People like Penelope, the lunchroom assistant that also doubles as a backup receptionist at the main desk of my office building; or like Manfred, the old grumpy man that lives on my block and that used to be my mom’s gardener before she passed away, God bless her soul.  People like Tanya, the girl that I could’ve married if we weren’t so hopelessly not in love with each other, and her baby girl Hope that always looks at me with big round eyes.  People like me, that are not exactly on good terms with the norm, that break away from averages.  People that stand out no matter how much they try not to._

_…Anyway, uh, I’m not here to talk about that.  So, uh, maybe we need to start again?_

_Hi, my name’s Kenny Greene, pleasure to meet you, and no, I don’t ‘do’ handshakes.  But I’ll answer your questions if you have them._

_…Seriously?  You want to know about my life?  You’re kidding, right?_

_H-huh, say what?  You’re… you’re not kidding?_

_…You’re not kidding.  Holy sh-  Damn, you’re serious._

_Well, uh, okay… not that I think there’s much to say about my life…  Uhm… I’m thirty-one.  I live in a suburb of New Orleans – I’m originally from Winthrop, in Massachusetts, but my mom moved here after my dad died, about fifteen years ago, and we’ve been living here ever since.  And when I say ‘we’, I mean that I lived with her until she died about three years ago.  Still live in the house, even.  Alone, yeah.  I… well, you see what I look like.  I’m not exactly a picture of male good looks – and I certainly wish that I could say that what I lack in appearance, I make up in outgoingness and charm, or whatever, but that’s not true, I’m really not much of a people person.  Alessa, my younger sister, also lives with me – but, well, she hasn’t liked that ever since we were all alone – she has a boyfriend and they’re probably going to move in together next year, when they’re both done with college.  He’s… they fit well together.  Both nothing like me, both pretty and petty._

_Uh, let’s see, what else?  Oh, yeah, I commute to and from work mainly because it’s dumb to use my car in the traffic hell that is rush hour – not to mention a fixed parking spot in the building’s underground parking lot would cost me an arm and a leg, which I can’t spare.  Not now, not later, not ever.  I work as a data analyst for Goldman, Leeson & Burnell, a HUGE accounting firm in the business district.  Almost all the companies in New Orleans work with us, and a fair few from outside the city do as well.  I don’t know if they’re actually known that well in the field, though, there are a lot of accounting firms, some of which are, of course, almost sacred.  Deloitte, PWC, Ernst & Young…  You know them – I’m sure everyone in the world knows them.  But anyway, I work for ‘em.  Data analysis is pretty okay work, it pays well enough – not as much as the big accountants, of course, but it gets my bills paid and my stomach filled daily, so…_

_…Anything else?  I think that’s about it.  I don’t really have hobbies, unless you count playing ‘Ragnarok Online’ for hours every evening or collecting figurines of cartoon figures.  I don’t work out – just look at me, and tell me if_ you _’d go jogging or even dress up in sports clothes if you looked like me.  I’m not a social person.  Parties, movies, bars, clubs, all of those things don’t interest me, really, so I… yeah, I lead a pretty lonely life…_

_What?  Out of choice?  Well, it might as well be._

_…What made me ‘not a people person’?  Oh, uh… well, uhm, I don’t know if I feel comfortable enough-_

_Well, yeah, of course I’m never going to see you again-_

_Sure, but-_

_But you just-_

_…Okay, okay, fine.  Fine.  You want to know what made me not trust people?  …I used to trust ‘em.  Got along nicely with ‘em, even.  But then puberty came, and most of my friends suddenly thought I wasn’t ‘cool’ enough for them anymore and they ditched me.  Right when I needed ‘em most.  My dad was already gone then, and I was the ‘man of the family’, helpin’ my mom out in the house a lot while she worked double shifts to pay off the mortgage – and, sure, I was interested in seeing movies and going to dances, but I had a five-year-old sister and a lot of responsibilities.  So they called me ‘lame’ and ‘annoying’ and they just didn’t bother anymore.  Which in turn made me rebel, and that made things even_ worse _, I tell ya.  I saw the principal’s office more times in that one year than I did in all the years before.  …So my mom decided that maybe transferring schools was what I needed, and I went to a school right in the center of the city, but… Things spiraled out of control pretty damn bad.  Stuff happened that I don’t like talking about.  I… you know, nowadays, those ‘women’s rights’ groups and those, uh…  God, I feel really uncomfortable saying ‘slut walks’ but that’s what they’re called.  You know those?  I… there’s men that can march with ‘em._

_Don’t!  Don’t you… don’t ask…  Don’t, just… just don’t, okay?!  I… let’s just…  Let’s just go on.  I’m not going into that alley anymore, been there far too damn long.  Y-yeah, they were hard days back then, when I was sixteen, seventeen.  Damn difficult days.  In the end, I was glad to get away from it all._

_Truth be told, though, I met Tanya back there so it wasn’t all bad.  We never went out, but we just… connected in a different way, you know?  She’s the woman that would be my dream wife if only there wasn’t this big empty void where there’s probably supposed to be love – and a marriage of convenience isn’t what either of us want, so we’re not goin’ there.  …She likes to cook for me on Saturdays, so I indulge her.  Not to mention her cooking’s amazing._

_…Her girl sometimes calls me ‘dad’ but I correct her every time.  No idea why Tanya doesn’t do it for me, but meh, maybe she just doesn’t care.  Maybe she’s just happy her girl has a father-figure, I don’t know.  Her… well, her lover, I s’pose, she didn’t have anything serious with the guy.  Anyway, he heard she was pregnant and he bailed.  Moved five states away and married a woman he’d been keeping there – or he’d been married to her all along, I didn’t really get the specifics.  Tanya… when she told me he’d gone, she just looked at me with sad eyes and said ‘I knew all along he wouldn’t stay’, and that just… spelled it out for me.  Tanya’s… I think nowadays the kids call it ‘aromantic’?  She doesn’t fall in love.  She never has, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she never will.  Not to say she’s cold or heartless – she absolutely dotes on Hope and she’s very fond of Manfred, who doesn’t exactly return the favor, he calls her a whore about three times a week-_

_-wait, what?  Me, an aromantic?  Hah!  No…_

_…N-no…_

_Oh god, I should’ve known that you’d get curious when I answered that.  Should’ve lied through my damn teeth, said ‘yeah, sure’ and be done with it, now you’re never going to stop questioning me until you know what prompts me to say ‘no’ so definitively._

_…Oh well, better get it over with, so we can go on with whatever else you wanted to know…_

_So I met this woman-_

_-okay, you can pull that look off your face right now.  I’m dead serious here._

_So I met this woman on my way back into work.  About, uh, five weeks ago, maybe?  Six at most?  I…_

_You want all the details, huh?_

_Okay, it was… September 16 th, I think.  A Wednesday, at any rate, because I went out to eat.  I was on my lunch break, at which time I love grabbing a tuna spread sandwich at Rizzy’s Deli, just two blocks away from my office building.  They have the greatest mayo-_

_Okay, okay, I’ll get on with it!  Jeez, you sniffed a story now, haven’t you?_

_So I went to Rizzy’s – on Wednesdays, Penelope doesn’t work, you see, and I find the other lunchroom employees… jerks and bitches, to be frank – and I took my sandwich to go because I was working on an important assignment.  And I headed back to my office building.  And there, on the corner of the boulevard, on the other side of the street…_

_…ah, it seems so unreal when I think about it now…_

_Heh, I suppose you’re right, love doth make fools of us all, huh?  …Y-yeah, you can say that I fell for her at first sight.  Nothing special about her, though.  Plain hair, plain clothes, plain face.  Just… she stood there, leaning slightly against the traffic light post, away from the people, holding her cellphone in one hand and a book in the other hand, looking pointedly at the ground, as if she felt exactly what I felt at that moment.  I… it was almost as if I could feel her heartbeat in my chest, you know?  I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t even think.  I just froze.  Stood there like an idiot staring as she crossed the street.  Only came to my senses when she was blocked from view by a passing bus.  I must’ve blinked, because she was gone the second I looked back…_

_It’s so bizarre, you know.  I don’t even know her name, or where she lives, where she works… what book she was reading…  I know nothing about her.  But I swear, in that moment, it was like we were galaxies in collision.  I couldn’t work properly all day.  I missed half of my TV shows that evening.  I tried to see her again in the past few weeks, but… but nothing.  Like she was a ghost, you know.  A ghost, a figment of my imagination, a wish…   Doesn’t matter._

_…Hoo boy, I’m never goin’ to see the woman of my dreams again.  Because that’s what she was.  Woman of my dreams.  Right there, just thirty or so damn feet away.  And I didn’t run after her, I didn’t try to reach her.  I just stood there, like a rock.  A dumb rock.  So, well, when I say love’s hopeless for me, you’d better believe it.  I’m clueless, just like I am about most things._

_Anyway, not that it matters, it’s not like I’ll ever see her again… and I’m not saying that because of my shyness, it’s just…_

_…well-_

A sudden, sharp sound made him look up, startling him out of his thoughts.  He looked again at his hands, blinking fiercely.  The amount of red he saw there was _staggering_.

Then he noticed the corpse – a young woman, disfigured, what was still discernible of her limbs battered and broken, and he remembered.  The limping run she’d done, the horde, the way they’d torn her apart.  His hunger, so overwhelming, so all-encompassing… the rest of the memories came unbidden but unstoppable, their gruesomeness making him close his eyes – but of course that didn’t block them out.  He’d thrown all caution to the wind and had rushed in, pushing aside some of the lingering ones of the horde, and then he’d just… dug his hands into her side and…

A stray fleck of the woman’s flesh fell from his cheek onto his exposed stomach and he groaned.

_…I’m talking to spirits of my food now.  Great.  Not only did this thing get me and turn me into… into this…  I’m also losing my mind now?  C’mon, Kenny, you never talked to the spirit of a cow before… before this, did you?  She’s… just meat now… just… that’s just the way things are now.  Man up.  That’s what Davey would say.  Man the hell up._

He groaned again and looked up.  He’d eaten, right?  Then maybe he should try and take something along for his friends.But just as he thought of them, he heard a screech overhead and he looked at the side of the building, seeing the mottled blue figure that he knew so well descend swiftly, claws digging into the mortar between bricks with ease.

_Kenny, you comin’?  Mur’ an’ Sweets are goin’ crazy worryin’ over ya._

_…Sure, okay, I’m coming along._   The conversation was soft growls and low groans, but the two understood each other.

Kenny’s sizeable stomach emitted a soft bubbling sound as he walked away, trusting on his Hunter friend to keep a watchful eye for predators – or worse, _armed_ Survivors.

_…Who can still dream of love when everybody’s either out to kill you or just lunch on legs?_


	2. Step 1: Attract her attention with a hand-delivered bit of Survivor… but remember to wash the bile off first

Davey was first to arrive in the building the small ‘clique’ of four called their home – which, of course, wasn’t all that difficult, since Kenny’s bulky size and fragile build made him move slowly while the Hunter only had to scale the side of the building, hop in through the busted window, and make himself at home.  Not for the first time, Kenny cursed his luck.

_…Why couldn’t I be a Hunter… or even a damn Jockey…  Anything but a Boomer…  I hate this.  I hate this.  Every step hurts, my knees are killing me, my stomach’s tense, but I can’t puke in here, I’ve got to save up for when a Survivor comes along…_

He heard a soft chuckle overhead, answered by a deep groan that sounded hoarse and raspy, and couldn’t help but smile.  At least his other friends weren’t much better off.  Murray – ‘Mur’ for short – was a Jockey, and his stilty little arms and legs were laughable at best.  He looked like a baby with freakishly elongated arms and legs, and with a creepy eternally grinning face – but he’d grown on Kenny when he’d helped him maneuver past a group of Survivors.  The other guy, ‘Sweets’, was actually called Hubert, but they called him ‘Sweets’ since they found him in a sweets shop, licking four lollipops at once.  His eternal cloud of smoke smelled less acrid to the others now, and the heady aroma of it now even soothed Kenny’s nerves.  He was also around a lot, as he tended to prefer a high perch for ambushing Survivors over going up close and personal, like Davey and Mur’.

Suddenly, the door opened and Sweets ushered him in, his tongues waving lazily in the air and his expression one of firm denouncement.

_Kenny, c’mon, man, I’ve been worried sick about you, don’t you ever disappear like that, none of us want you dead, man!  You know-_

_Yeah, I know._ Kenny halted for a moment to bring a hand to his stomach.  One of the three acid-green pouches was bulged and glowing, a sure sign that he had at least one load of bile ready, but the others were still slack and looking like diseased patches of skin at most, so he figured he’d get a full night’s sleep.  _Those Commoners out there can puncture me just as well as one of those Survivors’ fancy guns can, I know – but I at least got a good meal for once, not the scraps Davey leaves me._

 _I talked to Davey nice an’ long when you were gone, told him we need your bile to hunt just as much as he don’t like to admit it.  He promised to eat a li’l more Commoner from now on – share a li’l more Survivor with you.  We don’t want you growin’ the wrong kind of sick on us, right?_   Kenny was sure that the Smoker’s choked gurgle was meant to be a chuckle, and the weird lolling of his posterior tongue was meant to represent a teasing wink, but he didn’t feel like he had the energy to respond.  Instead, he just groaned and looked around.

_…Mur’ not around?  I want to say sorry to him in person._

_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYY BABY!_

_No hugs, no hugs, NO HUGS, NO HUGS, NO FUCKIN’ HUGS!  I don’t want Kenny’s guts all over my walls and floor!!_   Davey’s low growl spoke enough, and the Jockey bowed his head in shame before looking back up at Kenny with all the enthusiasm and eagerness of a two-year-old on the sugar rush of the century.

_How was dinner, huuuuuuuuuuuuuh?  Heard you dined on Uninfected leggies, yum yum yum…_

_It was… I don’t even remember eatin’, it’s weird.  Just… I was hungry… then suddenly I’m standing over this disfigured body with a bit of her entrails still clinging to my fingers-_

_OOOOOOH, entrails!!_   Murray’s loud laughter unnerved him – but the Jockey seemed to pick it up and his later chuckle was more apologetic than manic.  _…Take me alooooooooooong next time, okay?  I want some Uninfected leggies too…_

 _Murray, Kenny’s not goin’ out there anymore today, so ya got to wait for it.  And no…_ , Sweets cut off Kenny as the Boomer opened his mouth, turning his eager reply into a soft groan, _…Kenny, you gotta learn that your ass is on the line every time you sets foot outside.  Stay indoor tomorrow._

 _AW MAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!_   Murray’s answer was a loud shriek that had Sweets erupt in a string of loud coughs when smoke poured from his deformed head and neck due to being startled, and Davey growled loudly before screeching.

 _MUR’, STOP THE FUCKIN’ SHOUTING!  Chrissakes, HUNTERS have SENSITIVE EARS!!  Everyone go the fuck to sleep, it’s almost midnight, we gotta be well rested when the morning comes an’ the Survivors go back outside.  NO GODDAMN EXCEPTIONS, Sweets, or you can lick the floor clean!_ Murray looked a little rebellious, and Sweets clearly showed that he didn’t like being treated the same way as the others, but Kenny nodded and slowly waddled off to the side, after which Sweets instantly followed him off.  Murray brought up the rear, not chuckling for once but demurely dragging his arms over the floor until the three arrived in the room they shared.  Davey, whose apartment they were living in, had his own room, of course, and when they’d met he’d offered to take them in for the sake of protection.  Back then, Infected were hunted far more heavily than they were now – of course, when the Infection had swept southward from wherever it had originated, right into New Orleans, the tables had turned and the Infected far outnumbered the Survivors.  But even then, their lives were far from easy: there were still armed Survivors out there, and the Commoners, though made dull and dumb by the Infection, still could be a hazard when riled by bile.

Sweets opened the door to their room, and the three sighed as they each headed to the corner they’d taken up – Mur’ had filled his with bright baby blankets and stuffed toys, while Sweets’ ‘pad’ had an actual mattress and duvet, though he still relied on a folded winter coat as a pillow.  Kenny’s bed, finally, was a collection of duvets and blankets piled onto the floor, like a fluffy cloud with a round indentation that gave his tense stomach comfort on nights when it became difficult to handle the pressure.

 _…Well, goodnight-_ , Sweets started, but Murray interrupted him, his arms shivering and his grin back.

 _Keeeeeeen, tell me a story, won’t ya, please, won’t ya?_ Kenny found his Infected friend’s large, round eyes glowing softly in the darkness that surrounded them, pleading with him far more effectively than his meager whimper had done, and he could see Sweets roll his eyes but not grumble in protest, meaning he wouldn’t object.

_What do ya wanna hear?_

_…Tell me about Tanya again.  Tanya and Hope.  Your friends._

_I never should’ve told you about them._   He found himself growing weary of the ‘story’ Murray asked for – an endless repetition of how the people he cared about had been rescued, or not.  The Jockey seemed to realize how tiresome it was to him, as well, because he spoke up a little softer.

_Then tell me about the day ya turned!  Hee hee hee heeeeee…_

_God… well, okay, suppose there’s no harm in that.  …It was September 30 th.  The army was starting up the evacuations, and my supervisor, who was an asshole, was going over the security drill with my team again.  Into the hallway, last one closes the door, he locks it up.  Run up the ten flights of stairs in five minutes, get in the helicopter, put on a helmet, click in, and go.  We knew it by heart.  I excused myself from the ten thousandth trial run to go to the bathroom-_

_For a number twoooooo-_ , Murray started enthusiastically, but Sweets cut across the slightly-too-loud exclamation with a soft cough followed by a wave of heady smoke.

 _Keep it down, Mur’, or Davey’s gonna murder you._ The Jockey didn’t make another sound but he lay shivering in his heap of blankets – and more so to get rid of the thought of a bloodstained Davey than because he actually wished to do so, Kenny continued to talk in soft, low groans.

 _…I felt sick.  Back when I entered the office, the people were waiting for me.  Nobody really noticed how pale I looked, or they did and they didn’t care, I dunno… anyway, the exercise had been held off until I got there.  And suddenly… alarm goes off, which means that the building’s being evacuated for real.  Of course everyone panicked and scrambled outside, ignoring my asshole supervisor – and forgetting me.  I stumble outside, with my supervisor calling me fat and lazy to ‘encourage’ me to get a move on.  Just as we get outside, I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind – and a stream of puke-_ Kenny stopped for a moment there: Murray, excited as the story had gotten him, muffled his excited laughter in a blanket.  It took the Jockey another minute to calm down again, after which the Boomer spoke on in soft groans again: _…so I puked out my dinner, my breakfast, my lunch and possibly my stomach itself, right into his face.  And that’s when the Commoners came swarming to him.  Last thing I saw of him was his hand as he reached for me – and then there was a drove of Commoners that pushed me to the side and snacked on him.  And that’s when I took a good look at myself again and I saw the patches of green shining through my shirt and all._

 _…Oh maaaaaaan…  I don’t have sweet stories like you do…_ , Mur’ admitted, his excited breaths slowing down somewhat in testament to his fatigue, and Sweets just mumbled something, already halfway in dreams.  It took Kenny a minute to get comfortable in his pile of blankets, his stomach pleasantly settled in the indentation he’d painstakingly created just for that purpose, but then it took him only a second or ten to close his eyes and let sleep carry him off.

 

The next time Kenny made it outside, it was four days later.  The sounds of gunfire – which were the reason Davey had gone out to look for him and the reason the three other Infected had been worried – had died away again and the group’s diet had stopped including Survivor once more.  So Sweets decided that it wasn’t a bad idea for them to try and ambush another loner.

_Remember, Kenny… keep your eyes on the target.  First sign of a gun or a blade and you run, okay?  No shame in runnin’._

_Got ya._   It’d been said a hundred times, repeated a hundred more, in the two weeks the four had ‘hung out’ together, living and hunting as a team.  By now, Kenny knew the speech by heart – but he also knew Sweets would never skip it, convinced as the Smoker was that skipping it was bad luck.  Or maybe he was afraid he’d forgotten.

_Just run in, puke away, run back, let the rest do the work.  Don’t try nothin’ smart, neither, leave the heroism to me an’ Davey-_

_Sweeeeeeeeeets, you mean me and Davey, you’re frail an’ survivors LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE shooting at you!!_   Mur’ interrupted the two, chuckling excitedly and leaning softly against Kenny’s legs like a puppy begging for attention.  However, just as the Boomer meant to respond, Davey noticed and he growled.

_Murray, I told ya a million times, stop your damn beggin’ and stop with… with your grubby, sharp li’l claws so close to Kenny’s guts… I don’t want him explodin’ on us…_

_Spoilsport!  Kennyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy I promise, the Survivors I ride today, ya get first pick once their pretty li’l neck’s twisted!  Armies, leggies… yum yuuuuuum… and_ Davey _gets_ jack shit _for being a spoilspoooooooort!_

_I OUGHTA TWIST YOUR NECK, YOU GRUBBY LI’L-_

_ENOUGH!_ Sweets’ outburst was enough to make both Hunter and Jockey go quiet instantly and look at the concrete, pointedly away from the other one.  The Smoker didn’t raise his voice often – usually only to let them know he had a Survivor dangling from one of his tongues like fish bait from a hook – but the strangled, almost mucous cry reminded them unpleasantly of his condition whenever the smoke or the fact that he had three additional tongues growing out of varying places on his upper body didn’t do that for a moment anymore.  However, after a strained silence, he continued, his tone of voice making it clear enough that he was as done with their arguing as he’d ever been: _Davey is comin’ with me, we’re your lookouts today.  You and Davey are patrollin’ the alleyways around the big intersection.  Now, Kenny, there’s survivors there, so I want you to stick to the buildin’ on the opposite side of where Davey an’ me are goin’ to be, let Mur’ do the dirty work.  Only puke on Survivors he brings to ya and then get the hell outta the way for the horde.  Come across the street an’ hide in the building I’m in, it’s empty-_

 _I know, that used to be my office building, there’s no one there anymore.  Made sure nobody wants to go in there anymore, too._ Kenny couldn’t help but feel pride at his handiwork – as soon as he’d understood how his puke functioned, how it attracted the Commoners as soon as it came into contact with skin, he’d started spraying it around the building.  _The smell keeps the survivors away, and the Commoners disembowel anyone that runs in there.  The main lobby’s clear, though.  …Sweets, you climb up the side, okay?  Use the fire escape or somethin’.  Don’t… don’t you get puke on you-_

 _…Heh, relax, Kenny, you know I don’t like climbin’ stairs, anyways…_   Sweets’ answer was accompanied by a soft, mucous, unhealthy-sounding wheeze that was akin to a chuckle, and the Boomer relaxed; even more so when Davey growled low and leapt onto the side of the building, his clawed hands digging in the cracks between the bricks with ease.

 _Sweets is gonna be okay, he’s with me, now let’s move out – and Mur’, if ya get your grubby li’l paws anywhere_ near _Kenny’s gut again, I’m gonna be eating_ you _for dinner!_ The Jockey’s answer was lost in a sudden scuffle in one of the alleys leading to the street they were on, and instantly the four Infected fell silent, Sweets and Davey silently and quickly climbing the building and Murray and Kenny stalking to a doorway.  They’d learnt basic hand signals to communicate where they’d be, so when Murray signaled to another alleyway, Kenny just nodded, trying to quell the soft bubbling sound his stomach was emitting – it felt painfully taut again, and the tension of the moment didn’t exactly alleviate his aches.

But then he turned around, and his heart stopped.

There she stood!  It was _her_ , he was sure of it!  The woman he’d seen back when he was still okay!

He recognized her mainly because she stood in the exact same spot, leant against the traffic light, looking anywhere but him.  Her clothes were tattered, her skin slightly sallow, but other than that, she looked just as heart-stoppingly stunning to him as she had back when she had on a two-piece suit and perfectly permed hair.

…At that exact moment, his stomach bubbled.  _Loudly_.  And the woman turned around, prompting Kenny to panic, close his eyes and wait for the inevitable.

_Shit, this is the end, she’s a Survivor, she’s going to shoot me, she-_

_…H-huh?_   He opened his eyes at the soft groan, and his eyes widened.  The entire side of her face – how hadn’t he noticed it a second before? – was covered in thick pustules that had the sickly grey colour of diseased skin, and they oozed a dense cloud of smoke that was so familiar it felt painful.  She had only three tongues – one from her mouth, one from the back of her head, issuing right below a ponytail, and a third one sprouting from somewhere in between the mass of pustules.  And she looked at him with yellowish eyes, large and wide in fright and…

…and _recognition?_

_…Y-you… you…_

And then she was gone – ducked back into the alleyway, and Kenny felt the overwhelming urge to run after her, only he couldn’t.

 _DAMN IT!_ He cursed louder than he’d thought, apparently, because Sweets’ cough sounded a few seconds later.

_Everything okay down there, Kenny?  No sign of a Survivor yet?_

_…E-everything’s okay, Sweets… n-no, no Survivor yet…_   Kenny reacted meekly, meanwhile mentally cursing to himself.  She’d been right there, _right there_ , and he’d just stood there.  Despite everything he’d told himself, despite wishing beyond hope that he’d get a chance to speak to her… he’d _still_ not spoken up.  He was really doomed to be alone forever.  However, the next moment, he heard a startled outcry and the high-pitched laughter of his Infected comrade, and he sprang into action.

A simple puke, a quick dash away into the safety of the building, and the horde of Commoners did his work for him.  Another Survivor came running up to the one he’d puked over, but Davey pounced the poor bastard and reduced him to a bloody mince on the sidewalk.  Then, when everything went quiet, Murray came to get him, his claws and mouth already colored red.

 _Kenny, come and get iiiiiit!  Heeee hee hee hee… delicious Uninfected liver!  What d’you want?  You get first piiiiiick!_   His excited, quick talking in extatic yelps and yowls made Kenny’s mood a little better, but as he accepted a leg and took a few bites of the calf – deliciously rich, clearly the Survivor had run for a long time before meeting an untimely end at their hands – he felt down again.  With a sigh, he looked at the alleyway the woman had dashed back into.  _…Keeeeeennyyyyyy you look like it tastes like garbage…_   He looked at his friend and hunting companion to see an uncharacteristic expression of utter surprise on the warped features.

_I don’t-_

_Kenny saw a hot Smokerette down ‘ere an’ now he’s got his plus-size pants in a bunch ‘cause she didn’t jump him right away._   Davey was the one that had spoken, of course – if only that didn’t make it worse, Kenny found himself thinking, feeling his unresponsive blood try to rise to his cheeks but fail.

_Go to hell, Davey, an’ I hope the devil fucks you in the ass until you bleed from your eyes._

_Ouch, touchy…_ , Davey answered with a low growl that sounded more like a snicker than an offended reply – but when Kenny rose, the other Survivor leg firmly in his hand, the Hunter blinked.  _…H-hey, what’re yeh-_

 _I’m gonna look for ‘er and give her this._   To Kenny, it was clear as day.  She’d been hunting too, right?  That meant she was hungry.  It also meant that she’d appreciate a bit of Survivor, even if it was just one leg.  Before any of the others could stop him – he was well aware that Sweets, had he been there already, would’ve strangled him for even _thinking_ of going outside their comfort zone – he’d already disappeared into the alleyway.  Once he was there, he sniffed, trying to catch a whiff of the woman’s smoke.

It couldn’t be that slightly smoky, slightly herbal scent… right?

_…U-uh, he-hello?_

_Tell me why the hell you’re following me, you creep._   He felt her tongue wrap around his neck, ready to snap it and end his miserable existence, at the same moment he heard her voice, warped by the Infection into low groans and soft coughs.  It was hostile, but not as hostile as other Infected had sounded back in the first days.  Not out for his blood, just trying to protect herself from harm, from predators.

_…You… I… I have Survivor. F-for you._

_Why would you bring me Survivor?  We don’t know each other.  Is this a trick?  If you’re trying to trick me, turn around and go away._ The tongue around his neck tightened, forcing his next groans out choked and muffled but still audible.

 _I… no trick… i-it’s no trick… I… noticed you before… before the Infection… re-recognised you… t-tho-thought-_ Suddenly, he was free, and the leg was pulled from his arms roughly.

And promptly dropped at his feet a second later.

 _Ugh, bile… you need to wash your Survivor bits before you present them to someone that could strangle you._ He looked around but couldn’t see her – he could’ve sworn the voice came from right behind him, but apart from a dumpster there was nothing there.  With a sigh, he picked up the leg again and headed back to the others.

 _Wasn’t there, huh?_   Sweets’ statement, though sounding wheezy as always, was laced carefully with sympathy and the slightest amount of pity, and Kenny found his temper getting the better of him again, because who else but their Hunter companion had blabbed about why he wasn’t there?

_Davey, I sincerely hope the devil fucks you in every orifice you have until they all bleed, including your eyes and your ears._

_What the hell did I ever do to you?!_ , the Hunter reacted with a low, offended growl, but Murray chuckled and chewed on another lobe of the unfortunate Survivor’s liver.

 _…Hey, Kenny, don’t take it too hard, ‘kay?_ , Sweets commented sagely from the side – he was chewing on the head of the unfortunate Survivor Davey had ground into minced meat. _No Smoker, no matter how great she looks, is worth agonizin’ over.  …But, uh, just in case you wanna offer her a nice bite again, wash off the bile first.  You don’t taste it ‘cause you already did taste it, and Mur’ doesn’t care what state his dinner’s in ‘fore he digs in, but a Smoker-_

 _Smokers are soooooooo prissy!_ , the Jockey summed it up in a soft huff, pushing what was left of the Survivor’s carcass in Sweets’ direction, prompting him to pick it up and lug it away to their apartment.  The four softly conversed about their hunting strategies over the next few days as they walked, their grunts and groans drowning out the ever-so-soft sound of footsteps and wheezing breaths in the alleyways they left behind.


	3. Step 2: Strike up a conversation without staring at either her chest or her tongues – oh, and don’t forget to NOT sound like a complete idiot

_…Kenny, you okay?_ It’d been three days since he’d met the woman again.  Three days since she’d had her tongue wrapped around his neck, ready to snap it.  Three days since he’d offered her a Survivor leg and she’d just thrown it back to him.  Three days since he’d been able to think about hunting, or eating for that matter.  And his friends were starting to feel uneasy.   _…Kenny?_

Hubert ‘Sweets’ was starting to lose his footing.

 _…Aaaaaaaaand?  Did he say anythin’?_ , Murray asked him as he walked back into the living room – the Jockey sat quivering on the floor, looking up at him with large, slightly fright-filled eyes, his hands folded in front of him to keep them still.

_Nothin'.  He's wasting away in there.  His stomach didn't even bubble or bloop or whatever it does.  I'm gettin' a little bit worried now._

_Only now?_   Murray's voice was uncharacteristically subdued and soft – a telltale sign that the Jockey didn't feel okay at all.  _You an' Davey don't understand nothin'.  Kenny was hurtin' when that prissy Smoker girl showed up an' ran off again..._

 _We got that much, thanks, Mur'_ , Sweets said softly, his two side tongues lolling in an unseen breeze to show sarcasm better than any eyeroll ever would.  However, he turned serious again the next moment. _...But we need to know what we're gonna do about all this.  I mean, we need him for our hunts – not even Davey gets a Survivor or a Commoner chew-ready like a horde does, and to get a horde, we need bile.  And I refuse to use that synthetic crappy jar stuff that those Survivors seem to carry.  That's an insult to Kenny._

 _Ehehe, Kenny's sure gonna thank you..._ , Mur' said, laughing again softly, showing that he'd relaxed once more.  _...Maybe we oughta let Kennyyyyyy out sometime... y'know... for a waaaaaaaalk..._

Sweets' frown was felt more than seen, but his words showed it even more than the sudden change in atmosphere.

 _Kenny won't be goin' nowhere alone, Mur', no matter how lovesick the guy is.  He's fragile... an' I wouldn't forgive myself if he suddenly went 'pop' on my watch, would you?_ The Jockey's only answer was a startled cry and then a violent shiver that ran through him from his head down to his legs and feet.  _Didn't think so.  But there's gotta be some other way we can help him..._

 _Maaaaayyyyybe we can look for that Smoker girl!_ , Murray suggested gleefully, laughing wildly.

 _To say what?_ , Sweets retorted, prompting a less wild chuckle from the Jockey.  _We've gotta have a plan-_

 _You pansies still agonizin' over Kenny?!_   The growl from the doorway preceded Davey stalking in, crouched low on all fours.  _For cryin' out loud, the guy's such a damn PUSSY!_ Evidently the Hunter didn't have the patience Sweets and Murray had for his behavior, and his next screech was evidence of that.  _KENNY!  Open that door and get the hell out of here or I'm breakin' it down!_ When no answer came, he screeched again, in his best mimicry of an actual attack cry: **_KENNYYYYYY!!_**

 _Can't a guy nap around here anymore?_ Kenny opened the door, scratching idly through his almost nonexistant hair, and pulling on the tattered pants he wore with the other hand.  _I was asleep, thank ya very much for the concern..._

 _We were worriiiiiiieeeeeed Kennyyyyyyyy..._ , Murray said, chuckling manically in between soft grunts.  Kenny sighed and waddled further into the living room.  _You miss 'er, don't ya?_

 _Yeah... but hey, nothin' new.  Just goes to show ya the world is out to hurt you._ The Boomer's stomach gurgled softly and caused him to sigh heavily.  _...Mind if I take some pressure off?  I think the alleyway behind the house is safe-_

 _I'll keep ya covered_ , Sweets instantly suggested, walking out of the apartment in front of Kenny and casting a look of worry and sympathy at Murray.  However, the look was completely wasted on Davey, who just grinned and got up again.

 _There, that takes care'a that!_   Murray just grunted – he wasn't so sure his friend was A-OK again, not when his sigh had come so easily and his words were spoken with that air of defeat.  The last thing the band of four needed was a Boomer not at the top of his game.

_...Sweets, could ya... look away?_ , Kenny said softly, eyeing the Smoker a little apprehensively.  _And maybe take a few steps back?  If a splash of this gets on you..._

 _You're always afraid I'm gonna get hit by puke, Ken', stop worryin', I'll be fine..._ , came the answer, though it was accompanied by the shuffle of the Smoker's feet as he took a step back and then turned on his heels, facing the entry of the alleyway.  Kenny used the relative privacy to let loose a stream of slightly steaming puke into a garbage can, relieving some of the pressure on his stomach but keeping it tight enough in case they'd go hunting again the same day or the next day.  _...So, you wanna go hunt again soon?_ , the Smoker asked softly, and Kenny groaned.

 _Maybe, yeah.  Way I figure it, I shouldn't let a Smoker get me down.  ...Plus I'm hungry._ , he admitted, which his friend answered with a mucous cough that was tantamount to a soft, suppressed chuckle.

 _Take it from a Smoker, Kenny, that Smokerette was probably stuck-up anyways – if you give me a Survivor leg covered in bile, I'd wash it and eat it, for sure, not just throw it away. Anyway, anyone that don't like you isn't worth the consideration.  You-_   Suddenly, the sound of running footsteps sounded from the entrance of the alleyway, and Sweets tensed.  _Shit, it's Survivors!  Kenny, get inside the buildin'!  I'll climb the fire escape!_

_But-_

_Move!!_   The command was a short, barking cough, and Kenny found himself being pushed into the opened door next to him, which was then promptly shut, followed by the soft sound of wheezing breaths from outside as the Smoker climbed the building's fire escape, scrambling to get the others, no doubt.  With a bit of luck, there'd be Survivor on their menu that evening.  However, Kenny felt a little let down by the fact that there were more Survivors, banded together – whenever that was the case, Sweets and Davey preferred not to have him in the hunt, not because  they wanted to have more to themselves but because of his frailty.  So caught up in his thoughts about the Survivors and his friends' hunt for them was Kenny that he didn't notice something was wrong at first glance.

When he grasped around for the banister of the staircase in the dark and didn't find it, however, he knew instantly that he wasn't where he'd thought he was.  Startled, he came to the realization that Sweets, in his hurry, pushed him into _the wrong door_.  He was in the storage room of the ground floor store, with only two ways out: the way he'd just come, back into the alleyway and right in harm's way... and out the front, through the store and out on the street, in the open.

In other words, he was stuck between a jagged rock and a jagged hard place.

Carefully feeling around for sharp edges and pointy objects in his path, Kenny ambled deeper into the storage room, keeping to the side and willing his stomach to remain quiet.  Feeling around, he found a doorknob that felt promising – the handle felt smooth and cold, like it'd been used a lot – and when he turned it, the doorhinges didn't make a sound of protest in the slightest.  If Kenny could still sweat, he'd be sweating like a madman; if breathing was still an issue, he'd be panting the shorterst in- and exhales he'd ever breathed, to which not even his miserable gasps when he'd tried jogging as sport once could compare.  But seeing his state, the worst that happened was his stomach spasming nervously, the tension he'd just relieved having returned full force.  As he wandered into the store proper, he had to will his stomach to be quiet _and_ to not suddenly push up all of his bile over the nearest object.  The silence around him only added to the nerve-wracking quality of the situation: it was absolute.  Sweets' coughs had died away long since, and the hurried footfalls of the survivors had also stopped.  Finding a corner of the store right next to another door, Kenny leaned miserably against the wall.

 _Sweets, man, I'm scared out of my goddamn wits... please let Davey or Mur' finish those Survivors quickly..._ , he whispered into the darkness – a miserable, almost keening groan that could be mistaken for the squeak of a mouse by the time it reached his ears.  He got no answer from the silence.  Sighing slowly, he waited for the inevitable sound of footfalls and – hopefully – mucous, hacking coughs.

When they came, however, they weren't accompanied by that acrid, heady smoke he'd come to know and appreciate.  The smoke he smelled was lighter, more aromatic, almost herbal – like it weren't cigarettes burning but dried rosepetals – and the voice that sounded from the other side of the doorway was most definitely not that of Hubert.

_...Hey, uh, y'okay in there?_

It was the female Smoker – the woman he'd seen before the Infection, he corrected -  but that didn't exactly make Kenny more relaxed.  His stomach stopped feeling tense, yes, but if anything, the rest of his body tensed even more.  It was so bad that he took a few seconds to formulate an answer.

_Y-yeah, 'm okay... you?_

The door opened and slowly, hesitantly – cautiously, Kenny realized – the Smoker stepped in.  Her clothes and the diseased-looking patches on her skin looked even more grisly from up close, but Kenny had to admit she bore the Infection a lot better than Sweets did.  The Smoker of his band looked horrible from any distance, making it a mystery why Davey still-

 _...S-so, uh, hey._   She spoke softly, almost shyly, and Kenny's eyes were drawn back to her.  And before he really could stop himself, he looked at the two tongues that shivered softly, the one growing from the left side of her face especially.  _...Y-you're staring..._ , she said, the tongue he'd been looking at idly wrapping over her front like a protective embrace.

That made his gaze shift to her chest, and that was, of course, _so much worse._

 _H-HEY, you're creepin' me out!!_ , she barked out in a harsh, rasping cry, which fortunately drew him back to reality.

 _I... sorry... uh..._ , he stammered, wracking his brain for something sensible to say, or at the least something _okay_ to say, but it came up with huge blanks, and so he groaned before looking at the ground beside her helplessly. _...H-hi?_

 _Your friends... did they... leave you?_ , she asked, and he shook his head, evidently not able to speak – he felt like an idiot.  He probably _looked_ like an idiot as well, he realized, but his brain seemed to have taken an impromptu day of absence, leaving him with nothing to say and nowhere safe to look, the sheer shock of the woman he'd thought about so often both before and after the Infection _standing here and talking to him_ too great, and-  _Are they comin' back for you?_   Kenny nodded softly, his thoughts focusing on his friends again.

 _There... were Survivors... comin' here..._ , he stammered – if anything, that made him feel like even _more_ of a fool than he'd felt like already; the way his voice staggered and his answer struggled to escape him was just _moronic_ , he considered.  But if the Smokerette thought that, or anything of the sort, she didn't show it at all.

_I know, but they're gone now.  I... We were trailin' them, and when I noticed where they were running-_

_KENNYYYYYYY!!_ The startlingly loud cry – Davey's voice, the Boomer realized with a start – made the Smoker jump and take a hurried step back to the door.

_I got to go!  Bye!_

_B-but- wait!  W-wait, he's-_   Kenny's words were lost on the female Smoker, because she'd already dashed back out of the door, further into the store and probably out the front, leaving him to mumble the rest of his sentence to empty air scented like herbal smoke: _He's my friend..._

 _Kenny!  Kenny, you in 'ere?!_ Sweets' acrid smoke filled the space, pushing away the pleasant smell of the female Smoker's fumes, and after a second the Smoker himself rounded the corner.  _Ken', man, I'm so sorry, didn't see it was the wrong door I pushed ya in-_

 _'S okay, Sweets._   He stared at the empty door, remembering how the woman had looked: how beautiful and vulnerable she'd stood there, how soft her voice had been, how she'd looked at him...  His Smoker friend seemed to realize what his thoughts were about, too, because he looked at him with an oddly soft glance and spoke quietly, his grumble muffled and wheezy.

_...She was here, huh?_

_Yeah.  She and... and whoever's huntin' with her, they were chasin' the Survivors and she said..._ As he spoke, he realized the true impact of her words: _She said 'when I noticed where they were running' so-_

 _So she knows ya live here, huh?_ , Hubert supplied, smiling – the tongue from his mouth twitched subtly in mimicry of a friendly wink – and he leaned a little closer to Kenny to talk to him without the others, who were undoubtedly still close, overhearing.  _...She was worried, too, huh?  Ain't that a good thing, to have the girl ya like lookin' out for ya..._

 _Y-yeah, but-_ , Kenny said, suddenly remembering how the conversation had gone again.  _...Oh Christ, I acted like a damn idiot... just stared at her, didn't know what to say t'her..._

The Smoker's tongues lolled in a nonexistant breeze, which was as close to a sympathetic shrug the man could get, and he put one hand on Kenny's shoulder _._

 _Ah, could'a been worse... least you didn't puke all over her... and hey, at least now ya know she isn't as stuck-up or indifferent as we thought 'fore, right?_ , he added with another tongue-twitch wink, and Kenny grinned faintly.  'Small victories', he told himself.  'Even if they don't feel like a victory to you.'


	4. Step 3: Get separated from your friends mid-hunt and saved by her

_So, Kenny, now that ya got over that-_ , Davey started, only to get cut off by Sweets.

_Might not wanna continue that thought, Daves..._ He coughed modestly and motioned with his tongue at the window, to the street below.  _The Smoker chick was chasin' those Survivors and she made a detour to check if Kenny was okay._

 _Wheeeeeee, Keeeeennyyyyy, ya lucky bastaaaaaaaaard!!_ , came the excited and utterly gleeful shout from Murray, who was standing by the dumpsters that Kenny had vomited into before.  _I kneeeeew ya were gonnaaaaaaaa-_

 _Would ya pipe down, Mur'?!_ , Davey growled darkly – before Murray could answer with his usual offended cries or before the Hunter finally did what he always promised and tore the Jockey to shreds, however, Kenny spoke up, ending the argument before it even started.

_Dave, would ya just tell us what you were goin' to tell us without bitin' Mur' and without insultin' the Smoker girl?_

_Thought ya'd never ask, Kenny...  Okay, so those Survivors got away, but I know for a fact they're headin' for the factory outside'a town.  So I say we head 'em off._   The Hunter's broad, somewhat cruel grin made Kenny's stomach crawl for some reason – not that he'd ever admit as much to Davey, and not that he didn't try his best to repress it, because he owed his friend his life many times over – and the plan he outlined had several flaws in Kenny's mind.  For one, the factory he talked about was about fifteen miles out; another thing was that the city was _crawling_ with Infected, not all of which were friendly – some of the Hunters out there had tried to kill Kenny once or twice, and if Murray turned up near another Smoker's nest, he'd be dead so quickly nobody would be able to save him.  Once again it was Sweets who spoke up, voicing all of the reservations Kenny had had.

 _How?  The factory's on the other side 'f town... plus ya know that place is Witch Central.  More cryin' chicks than a movie release._ Davey meant to answer – but, surprisingly, it was Murray that spoke sense, even though he laughed madly while doing so.

_Daveeeeeeey meaaaaans we gotta surprise 'em on the waaaaaaaay over therrrrreeeeee!  Hee hee heeeeee, that's a grrreeeeeaaaaat plan!  Lots'a hiiiiiiiiidey-holes!!  Ahaha..._

_Mur'-_ , Davey started, his growl angry, but Sweets finished his sentence in a way the Hunter had definitely not meant.

 _...is right, right?  We're gonna ambush the hell out of those Survivors.  But first, we gotta think this through.  I mean, this city is basically a_ nest _of crappy Hunters, aggro Smokers and a Tank or two._

 _Don't forget the Spitters – if I see another one, it'll be too soon..._  Kenny didn't know why he added to the conversation, but the thought linked up flawlessly with his Smoker friend's reservations.  Spitters were normally on good terms with Boomers, but he didn't like the constant flirting even when they were god-awful at it and butt-ugly to boot, and the way they killed Survivors was a waste of good meat according to him.  _'Ey, Sweets, remember that Spitter that tried to get lucky with you 'bout a week ago?_

 _She tasted a lot more delicious than she looked._ , Sweets admitted with a soft cough that resembled a chuckle, and Murray added to the relaxed conversation.

 _Eeeheheheeeeee, when she said 'eeeeeeaaaaat meeeee' she didn't meeeaaaan like THAAAAAAAAAAAAAT..._ Ignoring Davey's upset growl, the Jockey jumped up and down on the spot, cheering manically, and as they talked loosely about their encounters with various other Infected – Murray was well on the way of telling the tale of his Charger friend and how he'd lost him for the hundredth time – they wound their way back to their living place to plan their hunt.

_...Be quiet, 'kay, Mur'?_ , Sweets said softly as the four trekked through the dusk.  They'd planned for a few hours, using a city map they'd pre-marked with the known 'nests' of the other Infected, and had finally come up with both a good spot to ambush the travelling Survivors and a safe route to and from the spot.  But it wasn't as safe as hunting near their den, of course, and Sweets' hyper-paranoia made sure that he wanted to be prepared for every possibility.  _Kenny, stick close. If you feel unsafe, don't hesitate – call me or Davey an' we'll run back to the apartment together, okay?  ...And nobody runs off alone – I_ mean _it, Davey-_

 _I DON'T-_ , the Hunter nearly screeched out, loud and angry as ever, but Sweets' tongue – the one at the base of his neck he barely used – wrapped tightly around his windpipe and the rest of his words were reduced to a choked whimper: _aiii lemme go, I don't run off alone ever, y'know?!_

_Right now, I'm callin' the shots, Dave, so you're quiet.  Not a peep outta you unless you're clawin' somethin' living's guts out-_

_O-o-or on the way there, hehe..._ Murray, at least, had the common sense to muffle his laughter, Kenny mused as they sized up the building where, according to Sweets, the Survivors would have to pass if they didn't want to either run into Tank after Tank or get mauled by the most vicious band of Hunters and Witches that lived in the city.  It was a longshot, and they all knew it, but it was better than more Commoner for the next week.

_Okay, guys – remember, today we're doin' it a little different.  I'm with Kenny – Davey, you and Murray-_

The growl with which Davey interrupted him was telltale of how short his  fuse had become with the turn of events that forced him to team up with the overly excited Jockey of their band.   _Just shut yer mouth, Sweets.  Mur', you so much as_ look _my way and I'm eatin'_ your _liver today._

 _Gooooo fuck a Taaaaaank, Daveyyyyy..._   Kenny would've snickered – Murray's retort was good – but they heard distant gunshots ring out next, and instantly they knew that the Survivors they were meaning to surprise were on their way – judging by the shouts coming from down the road, they'd stumbled upon the Witches and the Hunters and were quickly heading their way before the Hunters woke up.  Davey fell in line with Sweets' plan instantly, stalking off to the inside of the building; Murray followed, muffling his excited jeering laughter; and Sweets motioned to a doorway, the door of which hung half off its hinges but provided very good cover for himself and Kenny.

 _Remember... first I pull... then you puke... don't mind the tongue..._  The Smoker's wheezy, rasping voice was as close to a whisper as he could get it, and Kenny simply nodded, his stomach taut and bubbling softly.  A few seconds passed, during which the sounds of running footsteps grew closer and faster.  Sweets' cloud of smoke grew denser – a sure sign of nervous anticipation in the Smoker – but then...

The ground shook and the building itself seemed to sway when, out of nowhere, a Tank jumped down from overhead, right in front of the Survivors, and smashed one of them clear through the doorway behind which Kenny and Sweets had been waiting.  The man smacked against the wall on the far left of them and crumpled, barely breathing.  But it wasn't the fact that there was an unconscious Survivor with a gun in hand and a plain view of them that made Sweets pale next to him, Kenny knew.  No, because over the roar of the Tank, they'd also heard another sound, painfully familiar.  Davey's battlecry had rung out at the same moment, and when the Survivor slumped, they could just make out his voice over the cries of the Survivor.

 _OH SHIT A TA-_ Abruptly, and coinciding with another rumbling roar from the Tank and a swing of its arm, the cry turned into a loud yelp.  Sweets, who was closest to Davey of the three of them, instantly ran through the room to look at the scene, abandoning Kenny for a moment.

 _Sweeeeeeets!  S-sweeeeeeeetsssssss!_ , Murray cried pitifully from outside, and for a split second, maybe, the Smoker hesitated, but then he dashed off to the side, through a door on the side of the room.  He didn't tell Kenny not to move, but the Boomer was too terrified to get his legs to cooperate anyway, not to mention he knew better than to start running around when there was a Tank – an Infected built like a steamroller that could pop him like a bile-filled balloon with one finger – right outside, separated from him only by a slab of concrete.  And he'd seen Tanks tear chunks out of the pavement and toss them like pebbles, so he knew the least sound could alert it to his presence.

Had his heart still been beating, it would've frozen all the same.

After what seemed like hours of tumultuous noise outside – the Tank's roars mingling with gunfire, coughs, and sickening wet, sopping noises – it was quieting down.  The Tank appeared to have barreled on through the street, driving the Survivors away from the building.  The seconds ticked away slowly while Kenny waited for his friends to return – he hadn't heard Sweets' coughs anymore for what seemed like forever, and Murray was either dead silent or far, far away.  Silently, he wondered whether Davey was still alive – whether they _all_ were still alive – but then, he heard a groan, close by and pained.

 _D-davey?_ , he muttered softly, but there came no answer.  The next groan, when it followed, was more urgent – and easier to pinpoint.

The Survivor was waking up!

 _Shit... s-shiiiiit... SHIIIIT..._   Kenny knew that he'd been seen, and all that had saved him so far was the splitting headache the man wearing a policeman's uniform had to have – but that headache wouldn't last forever, not to mention the other Survivors might've bested the Tank and were, even now, returning to get their incapacitated friend.  When the downed Survivor tried to stand up but couldn't, Kenny felt more secure.  And then the man shouldered his scoped rifle slowly, trying to steady his aim desperately – and succeeding.  _SHIIIIT...!_

 _Move!_ , came a shout from outside, and Kenny ran from the spot he'd stood frozen in, a second before the bullet hit the wall.  His legs felt even more swollen and restrictive than usual, but he ran.  Another shot followed, and another, but he somehow managed to dodge them – to outrun them.  Suddenly, he tripped and fell forward through the door, quickly rolling off to the side, out of reach for the gun-toting Survivor – and when he did, he heard an urgent but still somewhat amused groan.  _Get up – I wanna let you go._

It was the female Smoker again.  Her tongue was looped loosely around his wrist – he was laying on it, and instantly he scrambled onto his feet again to allow her to get it back, which prompted a light puff of smoke to issue from the side of her head as it retracted.

 _S-so that's why I could outrun that guy..._ , he mused, and the Smoker nodded.

_Li'l help.  Now let's go, Kenny, before that guy decides to walk 'round again._

_He's incapacitated, though.  You could kill 'im._ , Kenny said, but she shook her head, causing more of the herbal-smelling smoke to waft his way.

_Not worth it.  I leave 'im for your friends._

_Did you see 'em?  Are they okay?_ Kenny couldn't help himself: despite the fact that the woman of his dreams had just saved his life by wrapping her _tongue –_ granted, _one_ of her three prehensile tongues – around his wrist, he had to know how the men that he'd come to depend on had fared.

 _Yeah, they're fine.  Hunter took a mean hit, but he'll live, I've seen 'em bounce right back.  Smoker saved your Jockey buddy by climbin' up the building and hoisting the Jockey up to a rooftop so the Tank couldn't get to them – when the Survivors got chased off, they got chased on as well, or maybe they wanted to scavenge, I dunno...  I know a place where we can wait for 'em._   She motioned upward, to the fire escape.  _I'll pull down the ladder, think ya can climb it?_

 _It's one of those foldin' things, I'll manage.  T-thanks..._ , Kenny stammered, suddenly remembering those all-important facts – _the woman of his dreams_ , who was a Smoker, had _saved his life_ and _hadn't killed him yet_ – and feeling like a chump for having asked her about his friends first without even knowing her name yet.  Instantly, to rectify at least part of his mistake, he tacked on: _...uh... w-what's yer name, actually?  I didn't catch it yet._

 _Nice to meet ya, Kenny._ Instead of extending a hand for him to shake, she very gently bumped his shoulder with one of the tongues not busy wrapping around the metal fold-up staircase to pull it down.  It felt like Sweets' casual and amical bump against his shoulder, making Kenny smile.  Okay, it was a start – and a good start at that.  It took him a second to register that she'd already mentioned his name twice without him having even said it to her, but when he did, he turned to her, surprise clear in his mumbles.

_W-wait, how d'you know my name?_

_Yesterday, when your Hunter buddy screeched for you. Kinda hard to miss 'KENNYYYYY' echoin' off the walls...  C'mon, let's go.  Your friends'll be waitin' for you._ She held down the metal staircase with ease, waiting for him to climb up to the part bolted into the concrete side of the building before she climbed up as well, riding the staircase's upward momentum with ease until they were level again – or as level as they'd ever be, considering that she stood at least a head taller than he did.  _...So, how'd you get friends like that?  I mean, Boomers are... they don't usually survive for long... they're fragile.  Those guys protect you somethin' fierce, Kenny.  They gotta be protectin' you well, 'cause even a Commoner can puncture you and send you exploding all over 'em.  Let alone a Hunter and a Jockey._

_...I don't know, just... met 'em, thought they were okay, stuck with 'em.  We're not really friends, it's just... convenient, I guess.  They use me in battle, I use them in battle.  Convenience, yeah._

_That's why you looked like you were struck by lightnin' when the Hunter got hit, huh?  And that's why you stayed when they all but gave y'up._ Kenny could only stare as she grinned his way, feeling like he'd been caught red-handed.  It was true, what she said: his friendship with Sweets, Davey and Mur' had maybe started as a convenience arrangement, but it had become a lot more.  He considered Sweets his equal in many ways – serious, screwed over by life in a lot of ways, realistic, attaching little importance to the nonessential – and Davey and Murray, despite their flaws, were good men that he felt proud to hunt with.  It was unnerving how he'd subconsciously and effortlessly grown attached to the three men.  Unnerving and... calming, soothing, somehow.   _...'Ey, don't worry, I know exactly what you think – 'no way'... right?_

_...Just a little, though.  I don't mind much.  It's just... didn't even know it happened._

_Heh, same here.  My former huntin' buddy and me, we-_

_'Ey, it's Kenny!_ , a voice from the rooftop interrupted the conversation, and Kenny looked up to see Murray perched over the edge, his absurdly long hands dangling down just a little.  _Kennyyyyyy, we were startin' to wooooorryyyyyy!_ Nervous laughter followed – but though it was easy to mistake it for his usual wild, eager laughter, Kenny knew the Jockey well enough by now and effortlessly discerned the relief and the gentle joy in his friend's voice.

 _Kenny, how'd you get up on that ladder!  Head back to the bottom, I'll help ya descend..._ , Sweets added the next second, and Kenny answered with a gurgling groan.

 _Okay, see ya down on the ground!_ However, he turned to May next and smiled at her.  _W-well, uh, it was nice meetin' you, May, but... my friends...  Not that I don't wanna stick around and talk to you some more, I... wanna hear how Davey, my Hunter friend, is._

 _Heh, I understand.  Friends like them aren't easy to come by.  It was nice talkin' to you, too, Kenny – bet we can meet again soon.  Maybe when we're not hunting, so we don't get interrupted, huh?  If ya need me, leave me a message – I'll find it, I can guarantee ya that_ , she suggested before climbing further up the ladder.   She didn't turn around again, but the tongue growing from the back of her head waved at him as she hopped onto the roof and disappeared from sight, and Kenny sighed softly before winding his way back down to meet with Murray and Hubert.


	5. Step 4: Make sure the world knows when you meet her by writing her a message in blood in plain view.

_Sooooooo Smoker chick saaaaaaaaved you, heeeeeeeeheeeeheeeeeeeeee..._   As always, Murray's simple, laughter-filled analysis was short and to the point – Kenny nodded, having no words to adequately describe that sinking, singing, soaring feeling in the pit of his stomach that was definitely not another load of bile building up.  She knew his name, had told him her name, had said it was nice talking to him and that she hoped they could meet again.

_Well, that was very, very kind of her, considering last time she had her tongue wrapped around you it was around your neck._ , Sweets added drily, causing Kenny to groan and reply.

 _She was... she thought I was followin' her to try and kill her, you'd do the same she did in self-defense.  And before you say 'but you're a nice guy', she couldn't know that 'bout me, now, could she?_   When neither Smoker nor Jockey answered, Kenny nodded and motioned for the closed door where Davey lay in the middle of his 'nest' of blankets and pillows.  As soon as they were home, Sweets had shown Kenny that the Hunter was still alive, though wounded and shaken by the hit he'd had to endure.  The Smoker had patched up his friend, wrapping bandages around bruised joints and torn flesh, and he'd closed the windows as best as he could, despite Davey's faint growls and whimpers that he didn't need a dark room because _his eyes were gone_ , words that Sweets had not listened to at all.  _...Davey gonna be okay again?_

 _Give it a day an' he'll be right back to hunting._ , Hubert said softly, one of his tongues twitchingly scratching over his smoke-oozing pustules.  _He's lucky that Tank thought he was dead._

 _I thought he was dead toooooo..._   For once, Mur' didn't jeer or even chuckle, his voice almost demure when he spoke.  _Aaaaaaall brown blood an' bruuuuuuiiiiiiiises an' woooouuuuunds...  B-but Sweeeeeeeeeeets, h-heh, Sweets said he'd be fiiiiiiiine..._ , the Jockey added nervously, causing Kenny to nod.  He'd recognised the Smoker's tongue-twitch from before, signifying he was lying through his teeth – which in turn meant that Davey would need more than a day to fully recover, if he'd even fully recover at all – but he knew better than to tell that to Murray.  Davey was a cornerstone of their group – the apartment was his, he was the one that had 'gathered' them.  But the Hunter knew, just as they all knew, that a crippled Hunter was as good as dead in the city.  The grim truth was that they might have to go on without Dave; but Sweets didn't seem to want to take that thought into account, and Kenny admitted to himself that he was nowhere near ready to accept that fact either.  When considering what to say to his friends – nervous Murray and Hubert who was so desperately looking for a way to escape his increasingly darker thoughts – he suddenly remembered what the female Smoker had said and reiterated it.

_...May said she's seen Hunters bounce back from a Tank attack._

_Heeeeee... well, she's prob'lyyyyyyy riiiiiiight...  Daaaaavey's an assssss, but a strong one..._ , Murray said – from the next room came a soft but clearly audible and understandable growl.

_I HEARD that, you li'l shit!_

_Yeh can cheeeeeeew my heeeeaaaaaad off when you're betteeeeeeer, Dave, ya aaaaaaaaaaass!_ , Murray reacted, though it was with a broad, genuine smile – not the spastic grin he usually bore, but somehow a warm, more caring version of it.  Then, however, he turned to Kenny.  _But yooooouuuur thiiiiiing's more importaaaaaaaaaaant... you gonna seeeee her agaiiiiiiiiin?_ Nervous giggles followed his words, causing Kenny – and, to a lesser degree, Sweets – to relax once more.

_I dunno... I hope so, though...  S-she kind of found me all the time, so..._

_You should find_ her _for a change._ , Sweets commented softly.  _Chicks love attention.  Well, flowers might not be the best idea now, 'cause where are you gonna find those – plus to a Smoker, that'd be like sayin' 'you reek of cigarettes, take a bath' – but maybe another nice leg of the livin'?  Or some choice, freshly turned Commoner guts?_

 _Stop thinkiiiiiing foooooooood, Sweets!_ , Mur' all but exclaimed enthusiastically, eager to provide ideas to Kenny – which felt endearing to the Boomer, more so because of what May had said.  She'd called them his friends, and he had to admit that they acted like it, seeing him as more than just a tool in their hunts or a man to take care of because he'd then take care of them in turn.  He had never thought of his own fragility much – but Davey and Murray, and especially Sweets, had imprinted it firmly into his thoughts that he shouldn't take big risks, always justifying it with a sound hunting plan.  Always, he was meant more as backup than as an actual active part of their setup; always, all he had to do was puke and hurry back to his hiding place while the Commoners finished his job for him.  Always, Murray or Dave – or both of them at times – were the ones to deliver the finishing blow to a Commoner or a Survivor armed with a sharp instrument; always Sweets was the one to drag off the armed Survivors.  And yet, he'd never gotten anything less than a quarter of the spoils.  Sometimes, he'd even gotten some of the bits that Murray or Sweets didn't like – Davey was a ravenous eater and finished off everything before anyone even had time to _breathe_ , but the Hunter was more often than not the key deadly element of surprise in their hunting schemes and Kenny liked him a lot better well-fed and complacent than hungry and cranky.

 _...Speakin' of food... where'd ya put the Survivor's body?_ Sweets had been lugging around the downed Survivor's corpse when he came to get him off the fire escape ladder – the Survivor that May had left there for them, though Kenny hadn't yet shared that tidbit of knowledge with Sweets.  He'd looked a lot less intimidating, the Boomer thought, without his gun and without his _life_ , though the blue face and white lips had had something... pitiful.

 _Ya huuuuuuuungryyyyyy, Kennyyyyyyyy?_ Mur' was quick to pick up on his words, Kenny mused – it tied in with the nervous, excited energy the Jockey was projecting so thoroughly – but Sweets' reaction was calm and brief, and the Smoker spared a glare at the Jockey as if willing him to not suggest that he run off alone..

 _One floor down.  In fact, let's_ all _eat, okay?  Dave gets dibs on the brains and the lungs today, though-_ , he started, getting interrupted by Murray instantly.

 _Coooouuuuuurse!  Daaaaave, youuuuuu jus' he-he-heeeeeaaaaal up, okaaaaaaayyyyyyy?_ Halfway through his sentence, the Jockey's chuckles warped his words into wild laughter, causing a faint growl to issue from the Hunter's room.

 _Soon as ya shut yer damn mouth, Chuckles the Clown!_   _I swear your voice makes my claws itch and my wounds hurt!_   Davey's words were biting in tone, but the realization that his friend didn't actually mean his insults and threats didn't take Kenny a lot of effort.  Not anymore, at least.  He accepted what May had said: these men were his friends.  _His_ and each other's friends.  No matter how often Davey would threaten to hurt Murray, he'd fight off a Tank to protect him; and no matter how much Murray badmouthed Davey, the Jockey would sooner jump off a cliff into the sea before he actually meant his insults.  Sweets and Murray didn't always see eye-to-eye, but the two of them protected Kenny like a pair of parents – like a smoke-shrouded father and a madly-laughing mother.  And Sweets and Dave were even _closer_ than they were, with the Smoker invariably giving the Hunter some of the most tender bits of meat from their catches and the Hunter, in return, making sure Sweets' blankets smelled like _roses_.  That knowledge was nowhere near as worrying as he'd portrayed it to May, even, and he grinned.

 _Dave, even if your claws'd fall off without Murray's blood all over 'em, you're not gettin' that today, okay?  ...Sweets, let's eat, before Murray decides to sing Davey a lullaby-_ It had been meant teasing, but Murray seemed to take his words as an actual suggestion, because the next thing the Boomer and the Smoker knew, an ear-splitting,shrill shriek issued from the minute, shivering body that was Murray.

_SSSSLEEEEEEEEEEP DAAAAAAVEEEEEEYYYYYY SLEEEEEEEEP, COOOOOOUUUUUNNNNNNT YEEEEERRRRSEEEEEEEELF SOOOOME SHEEEEEEEEEEEEP!  SOOOOOME SHEEEEEEEP WIIIIIITH WHIIIIIIIITE FLUFFYYYYYYY FLEEEEEEEEEECEEEEEEEEES..._

_Let's go before Davey decides to murder you-_ , the Smoker coughed out softly, but the Hunter's screech of rage was audible even across the din Mur' was causing.

_I AM GONNA MURDER YOU, KENNYYYYYYYYYY!!!_

_...LIIIIIIIKEEEEE AAAAAAAANGEEEEEEELS..._   Mercifully, the Jockey seemed to stop as soon as they moved to the door, and he subsided to soft chuckles as he followed them down the stairs to the floor below, where Sweets had stashed the Survivor's corpse.  From above still came faint sounds, but Sweets didn't seem worried about them and so Kenny resolved not to let them bother him either.  _...Is Daaaaave gonna be oooookaaaaay?_ , Murray asked, asking what Kenny had resolved not to be bothered about, and he looked at Sweets anxiously, but the Smoker nodded solemnly before answering.

_Davey's made of strong stuff.  He'll get back on his feet tomorrow or somethin'.  Still, might not be a bad idea to give him a li'l tender, soft meat._

_...H-heh heh, he can have part of the liver... liver's niiiiiiice an' tender..._ Murray's offer didn't surprise Kenny anymore, though it did seem to surprise Hubert, as the Smoker looked at Murray hard with his one still-visible eye.  Silence followed, a silence that seemed to become more overwhelming and unsettling to all three – probably because the silence encompassed all their fears and their worries, Kenny knew – and in the end, the Boomer spoke up as well, ending the quiet with resolute words.

_I'll, uh, give Dave a li'l bit of the calf, that's always the best bit.  He can pay me back when he's better and we grab ourselves another Survivor._

_..I think he'll never repay ya, but if you're sure..._ , Sweets said, though his tongues all lolled softly as if stroked by an unfelt breeze – Kenny hadn't seen that happen often, and he'd always thought it was odd because it didn't seem to be prompted by anything.  But now he knew that it was a sign of deep gratitude, if his tone of voice and the way his eye closed briefly were any indication of his mood.  _Okay, let's eat.  I'll carry up Dave's share 'fore I eat, so don't you dare touch my parts, okay?_ Normally, when Sweets told them to stay off his share, it sounded intimidating and even somewhat eerie, but now it only made Jockey and Boomer nod and smile as they aided their Smoker friend in disemboweling and dividing the dead body so they could eat.

_...Sooooooo, ya gonna seeeeee her again?  Huuuuuh?  Hu-hu-huuuu..._ It was impossible for Kenny to sleep – with Sweets sleeping in the living room in order to be close at hand when Davey needed something, it felt like their group was torn apart by what had happened, and that was enough to keep the Boomer from sleeping.  That, of course, and the knowledge that he'd actually talked to May – 'Smoker chick' seemed such an insult to her now that he knew her name – and that she'd said she'd like for them to meet again.  How could _anyone_ sleep knowing  that the perfect woman wanted to meet again?  As awake as he was, it was no problem at all hering the Jockey's hushed but clearly excited questions.  _Huuuuuuh, Kennyyyy?_

 _...I hope so, yeah...  I'd like that..._ , he admitted quietly, causing his friend to bury his head into the blankets that served as a bed for him to muffle his excited laughter to an almost inaudible ' _hmmmhmmmhmmm_ '.  Murray probably did so out of consideration for Davey more than to allow Kenny rest, because he spoke up quietly again the next second.

_And what you gonnaaaaaaaa doooooooo?  Taaaaaaake her ouuuuuut, riiiiiight?  He-he-heeehehe...give 'er some niiiiiiice Survivor toesies?_

_Eww, Mur', who eats toes?_ , came a calm but quiet hoarse groan from the doorway, and both Infected looked up to see Sweets leaning against the wooden doorframe, looking tired but slightly better than he'd looked ever since the Tank attack, which instantly made Kenny wonder what had managed to get him away from Davey's side, optimistically-minded no less.  _...Davey told me to 'take a hike' and stop breathin' down his neck._ , the Smoker elaborated, gesturing with the tongue growing from the back of his pustule-riddled neck as if it were a hand.  _He's a stubborn ass-_

 _Doooooon't let Daveeeeeyyyyy hear ya sayyyyyyy that, Sweeeeeeeeeheeeets!_ , Murray jeered, one shivering hand clapped in front of his mouth to muffle his voice in order to prevent the Hunter from hearing him – knowing Dave was awake made him, if anything, more cautious.

_-yeah, well, it's true.  He's got the heart of a mule, but luckily he's got the body of one as well.  He's perkin' up a lot since he ate, and his wounds aren't lookin' as bad as they did few hours back._

_I still don't get how you can, y'know..._ look _at Davey and see if he's okay or not..._ , Kenny admitted softly.  _Hunters are scrawny.  Barely meat on their bones an' all.  How do ya even know if they're doin' okay?_

 _Trust me, Ken, I know Davey.  I know every last scar on his body like it was a scar on_ my _body._ , Sweets said solemnly – his voice was hoarse and smoke billowed from the pustules on the side of his head, adding to the way he dodged answers as he always did when the subject of Davey and the relationship between him and the Hunter was broached.  However, uncharacteristically, the Smoker tacked on a soft-spoken addition: _...I've seen him break his wrist once.  Didn't stop him.  These were just bruises and scratches and he didn't dare move.  That worried me._

 _...Wait, hold on, when'd you see 'im break his wrist?_ , Kenny asked, nonplussed – as far as he knew, the Hunter had never broken anything, not even when he pounced on a Survivor from the top of a ten-story building, and he'd known Dave longer than Sweets had known him – but the Smoker had already moved on to the next topic, and his question pushed Dave clear out of the Boomer's mind.

 _So are you gonna try and win her over?_   Now Kenny blushed – his cheeks flushed with dark purple blots, uncooperative blood pushed through a cold body – and looked at the wall in order to think things over.  _Was_ he gonna try and win her over?  If so, then what could he do to woo her?  And if not, why did he feel like he'd swallowed a million flexible needles that were trying to poke their way through his entire body with the tiniest, softest pinpricks?  In the end, he sighed.

_I don't... know..._

_IIIIIIIIIII knooooooow... youuuu should try an'... hee hee hee... catch a Surviiiiiiiiiivor or a new Commoner with heeeeeeeeeer!_ , Murray gave his advice in between muffled laughter and held-back cries of excitement.  _Wooooooorks like a chaaaaaaaaaarm, doin' stuff toge-hehehehehe..._   The Jockey's voice trailed off into soft, quick giggles, leaving Sweets at liberty to give his own brand of encouragement and tips to Kenny.

 _I know Smokers – 'specially the lady Smokers – like sweet stuff...  Mur's advice is good, too... doin' stuff with her, that'll help you along already...  But 'course, if ya really want to make her feel good... make her feel_ uninfected _.  Make 'er forget that she's got this thing.  Try lookin' past the tongues an' the pustules an' the smoke.  Look right into her heart, man.  Dave's advice would probably be the same-_

 _Yeeeeaaaaah riiiiiiiight, Daaaaaaveeeeeeey's sooooo bad at stuff like picking up a giiiiiiiiiiirl, he prob'ly would sayyyyy 'jus' get her alone an'-_ , Murray started, his voice a little louder than before, and within a heartbeat, the reaction from across the apartment shut everyone up as well as startling them.

_I WANNA FUCKIN' SLEEP, YOU GODDAMN CRYBABIES!!_

_Don't shout, Davey!_ , Sweets called out, backing away again towards the Hunter's room, leaving Kenny and Murray to sit in silence again, and slowly, the apartment grew quiet apart from the soft breathing of dormant Infected.

_...Remember, Kenny, just puke and run back..._ , Sweets said a few days later, as they were hunting – the quartet temporarily turned into a trio, since Davey was still in the apartment, sleeping and eating most of the time and griping about not being able to hunt with them the remaining four hours of the day.  It was annoying, but when Sweets' tongue extended off into the Hunter's room through the opened door and the constant growling became muffled yelps and low whimpers, Kenny felt oddly fearful.  He'd asked Sweets not to throttle the Hunter, not even to shut him up, on a number of occasions, and all the answer he'd gotten was an amused look and soft coughs that sounded more like held-back laughter than anything else.  It wasn't an admission that he'd robbed Davey of his air, but it showed that Hubert certainly wasn't intent on doing anything to harm the Hunter, and Kenny had pushed his worries away after that, more so because Sweets had resorted to just shouting back at the Hunter to 'shut up and get some rest' a few times as well.  At the moment, however, Davey was far away, and Sweets was in charge of their hunt.  _Murray, you protect Kenny, 'kay?_

 _With my liiiiiiiiiiiiiiife, you know thaaaaaaaaaaat, Sweetsie, heheheheeeeee..._ , the Jockey reacted, his muffled giggles making Kenny feel more comfortable again and causing a soft cloud of smoke to issue from the Smoker.

 _Good.  I'll be behind you guys – backup in case this thing misfires.  Judgin' from the sounds, it's a lone Survivor.  Dunno if it's a he or a she, and can't tell if they're armed or unarmed, so eyes an' ears open and run when you get in danger, 'kay?_   Sweets sounded almost fatherly when he spoke to them like that, Kenny knew – it made him feel safe, at least.  Presumably, judging by the way Murray just fell in line where normally he would protest or at least be vocal about his dislike of being treated like a kid, the Jockey was of the same mindset as he was.  _...Okay, positions, think I hear somethin' comin' this way..._   The Boomer nodded, retreating into the doorway of a derelict building on the side of the street, while Murray nodded and ran to the fire escape further to the side.  Sweets merely dug his fingers into the crumbling mortar of the building and quickly climbed up the side, swift and silent as always, leaving behind only a faint whiff of stale smoke.  Kenny put one hand on his stomach, which felt tense and swollen with all the bile he'd gathered over the course of half a week.  Half a week of not hunting – and, he mentally added, of missing May.

His thoughts about the female Smoker occupied him so much that he only barely noticed how the sounds had come very close indeed.  A faint whimper right outside sounded – a soft, hoarse groan.

_It hurts... so much..._

So it wasn't a Survivor – or not anymore, Kenny mused.  Lone Survivors almost didn't appear in the city, either picked off quickly by another group or claimed by the Infection.  Indeed, when the young woman outside ambled into view, it was easy to see that she'd been claimed.  Her skin, which had to have been a healthy pink not so long ago, was a pasty white, and a wound on her cheek oozed dark blood.  Her hair was matted and her nails were already elongated, leaving no doubt what she'd become – a Witch, one of the most fearsome Infected around, able to even best Tanks when angered.  However, this still-turning Witch was vulnerable, and not yet so skinny as to make her worthless.  An ideal victim to their hunt.

 _It hurts... please..._ , she whimpered again, but Kenny knew that he could not – and should not – pity her fate.  She was dead anyway.  He opened his mouth and his stomach pushed up one load of fresh,not-so-fragrant bile, which covered the newly Infected from head to toe.  Temporarily blinded, she stumbled back outside and then, with a startled yelp, was hoisted up from the sidewalk, before any of the Commoners reached her, drawn by the scent of his bile.  Sweets was quick to throttle her – a dry snap later, she swung in front of the doorway, her leg twitching slightly.  The Commoners dispersed again, knowing they couldn't get the tasty not-quite-fully-claimed woman out of the Smoker's hold – though one or two of them tried, with half-hearted and very unsuccessful jumps – and when Kenny puked again among the group, their hunger was swiftly satisfied with one of their own number.  Backing away, Kenny ambled outside, into the alleyway where the three of them were supposed to meet up again.  Sweets had the slightly dripping Witch' body with him.

 _Ya washed her?_ , Kenny asked, and the Smoker nodded, grinning softly.

 _Gods, she stank... think she maybe got turned by a bite from one of the Hunters from the other side of town, smelly bastards they are...  Pity the loners almost always turn 'fore ya get at them, huh?_ , he said softly, his tone clearly showing how he felt triumphant now that their first hunt without Davey had been a success.  Next, however, he motioned for their building, towards their apartment.  _Let's get this thing up to Davey, so we can all eat in peace, huh?_

 _Soooouuuuuunds like a grrrreeeeeaaaaat plaaaahahahahan..._   Murray had joined them quietly, his voice muffled by his hands.  _Theeeeeere's still some Commoners ouuuuuuut theeeeeeere, eatin' each other... ssssstupiiiiiiiiiid guys...  Sweeeets, ya carryin' her?_ , the Jockey asked; instead of answering, Sweets hoisted the frail body over his shoulder, the newly turned Witch' head dangling a little miserably at his back.  _Keeeennyyyyyy, y-ya comin'?_

 _...U-uh, wait, could I... uh, I mean, c-can I do somethin' first?_ , the Boomer asked, surprising his friends.  After a second's hesitation, Sweets nodded, his coughs sounding soft and sympathetic.

 _...Ya want to leave 'er a message, right?  Hold on..._   Placing the corpse back onto the ground, Sweets painstakingly wrenched his long fingernails into the chest of the Witch, digging around a little before chuckling.  _Hope ya never forgot how to fingerpaint, Ken'... use this, 'kay?  Where d'you..._

_I... I dunno, where would she see it for sure?_

_The shop wiiiiiiindow, eeeeheheheeeee!_ , Murray suggested, laughing wildly – despite the slightly off feeling of the Jockey's laughter, Kenny thought it was an okay idea, so he dug his hand where Sweets' had been a second before and set to work.  The blood was already sticky, so he figured he'd have to keep it short – and thus, after ten tense minutes of work, four words stood on the shop window.

 _'May, tomorrow, here, Kenny.' - that's, uh, to the point..._ , Sweets said, one of his tongues scratching his head – Kenny guessed that his friend was trying his best to suppress the waggling of his tongue that indicated scepticism, but though it was nice that Hubert wanted to make him feel better, it didn't actually accomplish that goal.  _...Hey, she's prob'ly gonna like that, what do I know 'bout her, huh?_ , the Smoker quickly tacked on, picking up on Kenny's thoughts apparently, and Murray chuckled.

 _Ya did greeeeeeaaaaat, Kennyyyyyyy!  She's gonna looooooooove it!_   That made Kenny feel a little optimistic – but of course, three or four Commoners had to choose that moment to look at the message.  Then the group grew to six, then seven...

 _What the hell...?_ , Kenny muttered when no less than _twenty C_ ommoners stood in front of the shop window, staring at his message.  Sweets and Murray, who were standing by his side, looked equally amazed.

 _I-it's probably that you still had some bile on you or somethin'... they probably smell that... they're...  I don't think Commoners can_ read _anyway, so..._ , the Smoker was quick to comment, and Murray added to the desperate message, his laughter nervous more than it was mocking.

_Ye-yeeeeeaaaaaah, they prob'ly juuuuuuuuuust smell that Wiiiiiiitch o-or somethiiiiiiiiiiiiin'!_

_Let's just go – not like standing here is gonna make 'em go away, right?  ...Besides, it's about time we check up on Davey an' eat with 'im..._ , Sweets said softly, pulling Kenny along with one of his tongues.  But no matter how much the Boomer tried to make sense of the fact that a crowd of well over twenty Common Infected stood gathered in front of the shop window he'd just happened to have written his message to May on, it felt like _everyone_ knew about his meeting with her now.  Wiping it off wasn't an option – because then how would he meet up with the female Smoker again?  Just wait for her to turn up again? – but leaving it on meant every Commoner and every Survivor passing by knowing that he wanted to meet with her there, in that shop.

 _C'mon, Ken'..._ , Sweets said, gently tugging on his hand again, and with a defeated sigh, Kenny turned his back on the shop window and the message he'd written for May.  Everyone knew about him wanting to meet her... and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

_...Sooooooooo Daveyyyyyy, how ya feelin'?_ , Murray asked in his most calm and laughter-free voice, done so more in an attempt to not unnerve the Hunter than because he was worried – Kenny had to admit it was hard to worry about their friend when he'd basically pounced on his share of their dinner, devouring it bones and all in a matter of seconds, it seemed.  Dave leaned back a little before answering.

 _Much better now that I got fed somethin' good.  Freshly turned, huh?  Ya could still taste the Survivor in there a li'l... delicious..._ The low, appreciative growl at the end was filled with the energy they'd lacked in the Hunter for a few days – predatory and hungry for more, just like he'd always been.

 _And your leg?_ , Kenny asked, drawing a frown from both Davey and Sweets.  However, the Hunter answered before the Smoker could speak.

_Not well enough to hunt yet – an' believe me, I wanna fuckin' hunt with you guys 'gain, my claws ITCH when I'm holed up in here..._

_If you're not well enough, you're a liability out there, Dave, an' I'm not havin' it._ , Sweets said, his head obscured for a moment by a fell puff of dense green smoke.

 _...but well enough to get outta this goddamn room and outta this goddamn apartment.  Not alone, mind ya, but shouldn't be a problem with three bodyguards like you guys.  But if Mur' even_ opens _his_ mouth _, I'm skinnin' him-_

 _Thaaaaaaaaaaaat's the asssssss we knooooow an' loooooooove to haaaaaaate..._ , Murray answered the Hunter's sentiment with a broad grin before motioning to the door.  _What're weeeeeeeeeheeeheeeeee waitin' fooooooooor?  A li'l aaaaaaiiiiiiiir-_

 _Keep yer mouth shut, damn it!!_ Davey's low growl was warning, but Kenny could tell that the Hunter was forcing his mouth into the grimace he bore, since the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards. _You li'l shit, you're givin' me a fuckin' headache!_

 _Would you stop your bickerin' before_ I _get a headache?_ , Sweets warned them – Davey and Murray both cringed and fell in line instantly, and Kenny just shrugged and shuffled awkwardly to the door.  _...Kenny, you doin' okay there?_ , came the question – of course the Smoker would've seen his discomfort, it figured – which the Boomer answered with a muffled groan.

 _My stomach... haven't felt all that good since we came back up..._ Instantly, the three others looked at him, making the knot in his stomach feel even tighter and making the bile in his belly feel even heavier – the groan that escaped him was a vocalization of that.

 _What d'you feel?  Nausea, light in the head, dizzy?_ , Sweets instantly asked – one of his tongues pressed against Kenny's forehead, another clamped none too subtly over his wrist to feel for a nonexistant pulse, and the Smoker's hand fastened on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.  It made Kenny feel so guilty about complaining that he answered.

_Bit nauseous, probably overeaten.  Strange as it sounds with Dave the Hunter preyin' on every scrap he can get-_

_HEY!!_ , the Hunter screeched, but Sweets' third tongue wrapped around his neck and the only sound he could still utter was a scratchy whimper conceding defeat, which promptly got him dropped by his friend.

 _Anyone else feel nauseous?  ...No?_ , Sweets added when Murray chuckled as he shook his head and Davey, still rubbing his sore throat gingerly, grumbled an answer.  _You're in the clear, Ken', you probably did overeat.  Maybe a bone or somethin'.  Some air'll do you good._ The four of them moved down the stairs slowly – it was odd to see Davey walk around for longer than a minute on two legs, and even more so when he had to be held up by one of Sweets' tongues as he walked.  Nevertheless, it was good to see him up.

 _Ouch, keep the- keep that tongue 'round_ there, _you asshat!  You're wrappin' it 'round my chest only if you wanna die, Sweets!_ , Davey protested when the Smoker intended to shift his tongue so it was wrapped under his arms after he stumbled between the second floor and the ground floor – Sweets' answer was a raw, mucous gasp and then a grunt as he wrapped two of his extra tongues firmly around Davey's arms, twisting them behind his back painfully as the Smoker answered in kind.

 _Listen here, David, you poor excuse for a Hunter, as long as you're a cripple, you're playin' by_ my _rules or you're not playin', y'understand?!  You know what would happen to ya out there if you were alone-_

 _Okay, okay, lemme go!_ , Davey reacted, suddenly sounding fearful – probably, Kenny guessed from the way he held up his right leg, because he'd put weight on the foot that had slipped away and found that it hurt too much to be comfortable.  It was one of the 'gifts' of the Infection that they could shake off crippling injuries – broken limbs, torn ligaments, even wounds that would be fatal if they were still alive – but it came at a price.  A Smoker with a broken arm could still hunt, but if anything broke in a Hunter's arms or legs, he was a sitting duck.  Hunters were frail; not being able to hunt meant they became the prey and those they usually hunted, Survivors but also Commoners and even the occasional Jockey, hunted _them_ instead.  _Okay, we're down, now_ lemme go _, Hubert!_

 _Wait... Mur', mind checkin' out if it's clear?_ , the Smoker asked, and the Jockey, nearly extatic now that _he_ had been asked to stake out their patch of the city, burst into loud laughter as he headed outside.  His laughter died away slowly as he ran quickly through the alleyway and around the block – and then, soft snorts came closer again and the short Infected opened the door for them.

_Aaaaaaaaaaaaall cleeeeeeaaaaaaaaaar!  Davey's saaaaaafe with uuuuuuuuuuussssssssss!_

_Keep yer mouth_ shut _, Murray!!_ , the Hunter growled out, and for once Sweets didn't protest – he kept his eyes on Davey as his tongues let go, anxious for signs of pain in their friend, but the Hunter dropped on all fours with ease and got around with hardly a sign of his wounds interfering.  _...Good GOD, it feels like I ain't been out here for ages!!_ , he added with a soft growl that sounded off coming from a creature as vicious as him.  Sweets relaxed, and Kenny found his stomach relaxing just a little as well, prompting him to speak up.

_...M-mind if I go... uh..._

_Check out the store again?_ , Sweets supplied innocently – instantly, Dave grinned, showing sharp yellow teeth, and answered.

_He's so hung up on that Smoker chick – man, you'd better get lucky with 'er, all the effort ya been puttin' in..._

_Shut up, Dave..._ , Kenny mumbled weakly, feeling his blood sluggishly attempting the climb into his cheeks and ears, something that was doomed to fail.  Fortunately, at the moment Davey meant to speak up again, Sweets did so, cutting the Hunter's next remark off and shutting him up.

 _Davey, when's the last time_ you _ever used your brain for thinkin' and not your stomach or your junk?  Not everyone's a mindless, brainless bundle of happy like you.  ...Ken', we'll all go 'round to the store in a minute, as soon as Davey-_

 _HEY!!_ , the Hunter screeched – Kenny guessed that Sweets' continuation would've been crude, and there were certain secrets the Hunter and the Smoker had between them that he never wanted to know about – but then he suddenly halted, as completely as if someone had frozen him, prompting the others to look at him in surprise.  Finally, after a few seconds of silence, he sniffed loudly and looked at Sweets.  _...You changed your brand, man?_

_What the hell d'you mean, Dave?_

_Just, it smells like... like Smoker, but not like_ you _.  I mean, it does smell like you, but like you changed your diet to include roses suddenly, man-_

 _May!_ , Kenny gasped, heading for the door leading into the store – his three friends knew by now that 'May' was the name of the Smoker he was desperately chasing, so they followed at his heels.

 _Is she heeeeeeeeeeere, ehehehe?_ , Murray said in between fits of laughter, chuckling softly, and Sweets' wheezing answer came before Kenny could speak up.

 _'Course she's not, Davey was teasin' Ken' an' gettin' his hopes up for nothing..._   Kenny had to admit that he was right.  If the scent of May's smoke hung in the store, it was only the faintest trace of it, just enough to catch the Hunter's sensitive nose and enable him to describe it to him.  But there was no sign that she'd been there.

That's when his eyes fell on the shop window.  The Commoners had gone away, thank the Lord, but it had...

 _YES!_ , the Boomer shouted out in a loud, gurgling cry.  After his sentence, in thick, bold letters in which he could still see the fingerprints, stood an equally short answer written in grey paint.  _'Noon, okay, May' – oh god, she'll be here!_


	6. Step 5: Meet the competition and realize you're hopelessly outmatched

_Kenny?!  God damn it, Kenny, y'okay?!_ , Sweets' raw coughs echoed off the walls of the store, making the Boomer realize that he'd shouted before – still, he didn't care that the others were worried, high on adrenaline as he was that he was  _going to meet her and talk to her and-_   The Hunter's next screech, however, brought him back firmly to the ground.

_KENNYYYYYYY ANSWEEEEER YA FUCKIN' ASSHOLE!!_

_I'm okay, I said I'm okay!_ , he responded – just a second before the door crashed open behind him and Murray and Sweets dashed inside, both panting – and, in Sweets' case, looking as pale as a ghost.

 _Next time... you... *cough cough*decide to... shout... *hack*...don't..._ , Sweets said – behind him, pained yelps sounded and Davey stalked in, growling loudly.

_I SWEAR HE BETTER BE DEAD OR I'LL KILL THE DAMN SHITHEAD!  Kenny, what th'fuck you gotta say for yourself?!!  Better WISH it's a fuckin' good reason or you'll be SPRAYED 'CROSS THE-_

_HEEEEE GOT A DAAAAAAAAAAAAATEEEEEEE AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!_ , Murray cut the Hunter off, his words squealed rather than spoken and his laughter wilder than ever.  _Kenny has a daaaaaaaaate with Maaaaayyyyyyy the Smooooookeeeeer!!_

 _Seriously?_ , Sweets said, stepping around Kenny to look at the window – but that left Kenny face to face with Davey, who didn't seem like he found that reason 'fuckin' good'.

 _Seriously?!  You shout your damn head off 'bout some Smoker that yeh might get lucky with?!!  I am gonna MURDER you, ya shit-shovellin' son of a-_ aaaaaah fuuuuuck _, put me the hell down, Sweets!!!_   The Hunter was swept off his feet mid-sentence and hoisted into the air, one of Sweets' extra tongues having wrapped around either ankle.  _Put me down or so help me-_

 _Shut up or I'm throwin' you into a wall._ , Sweets said curtly, which made the Hunter growl inarticulately in threat.  However, rather than see the Smoker execute his threat – or, which seemed worse, have Davey's already bruised ego take a devastating blow by his fragile limbs giving out from being manhandled – Kenny meekly took a step back and looked at the ground.

_I kind of... lost my head, Dave, 'm sorry... Sweets, please, put Davey down or he ain't gonna walk any day soon-_

_He's just_ playin' _the cripple, the big baby, you should've seen 'im leap when ya shouted._ , Sweets commented, his tone dry and even lightly annoyed though his grin at Kenny and the fact that he let the Hunter back onto the ground contradicted that aggravation somewhat.  Dave growled again before grumbling defensively as he stalked back outside.

_I thought Kenny was in danger, wasn't 'bout to let some stupid ankle trouble stop me from savin' him!_

_Yeah, sure..._ , the Smoker commented, turning to face Davey.  Sweets had something dark and menacing over him whenever he wanted it, and that time was no exception.  Davey cowered, for which Kenny could hardly blame him – especially when Sweets continued: _I've been helpin' you up, been helpin' you eat an' get comfy to fall asleep, for a week, an' you never once asked to not do that.  You jus' were playin' the cripple so ya could get me to help you – so tomorrow, you're goin' hunting with me an' Mur', and you two are teamin' up._

 _Kenny-_ , Dave instantly started, but Sweets didn't let him continue.

 _Has a date, an' he deserves a li'l alone time too._ , came the swift interruption, making the Boomer blush just a little.  Sweets was actually understanding – and, if his soft, mucous wheezes were anything to go by, even _happy_ for him.  All of that couldn't be said, however, for the Hunter, who took the opportunity to growl at him as the four of them wound their way back up the stairs to the apartment.

 _Kenny, you better watch your step an' be RRRRREEEAAAAL quiet when we get back or I might just have to-_ Sweets didn't even have to speak, instead just allowing two of his tongues to extend a little over his head to indicate to Dave that he could pick him up and hoist him overhead any time, but the effect on the Hunter was instant and efficient.  _OKAY, OKAY, I'm shuttin' up!!  Sweets, ya better watch out too!_

_Like you'd try anythin' on me.  Tell me again, how long exactly could ya walk jus' fine without my help?_

_WHAT'S THAT GOTTA DO WITH ANYTHIN'?!_ , Davey screeched, the sound of it echoing away in the halls around them – even the Hunter grew quiet when he heard the very metal of the staircase itself vibrate from his screech.  When he continued, his voice was much softer but not even a little less angry: _Kenny gets the preferential treatment, man, it's not fair!_

 _You mean a preferential treatment like you got all last week, Dave?  'Cause I don't think ya got a lot of reasons to complain, d'you agree?_ , Sweets said almost sweetly – now Davey had the sense to bite his lip and keep his comments to himself, though he crouched down on all fours and started bounding swiftly up the stairs just so he could slam the door shut long before they had even arrived.  _...Too hard?_ , the Smoker asked, and Murray chuckled darkly before shaking his head.

_Nooooo-ho-hooooo, never too haaaaaaaaaard!  Daaaaaaaave's just an ass.  Dooooon't mind hiiiiiiiiim, Sweeeeeeeeeeetsiiiiiieeeeeee!  Ahahahaha, Kenny has a daaaaaaaaaaaaateeeeeee!  KEEEEEENNYYYYYYY HAS A DAAAAAAAAAAAAA-_

_MURRAY, YOU LI'L PRICK, SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!_ , came a shout from overhead, and the trio looked up to see their friend hanging over the banister, his face showing rage – when he retreated and the door slammed once more overhead, Sweets turned to the others with a soft, strangled cough.

_...He's fine.  Give 'im a good night's rest and he won't even remember what happened today._

_I hope so._ , Kenny mused, knowing the Smoker too well to miss the hopeful look that crossed his deformed features.  Murray seemed to have noticed it as well, because he was quiet as a mouse – save for some chuckles he silenced as best as he could – until they were in their room, settling down for the night.  But of course he couldn't fall asleep without one last question.

_You neeeeeeervous, Kennyyyyyyyy?_

_I... a little, yeah..._ , he admitted, looking at the ceiling and wondering whether right now, May was just as giddy as he was.  He could only hope that she shared his feeling of excitement – and his mind carried him off in a half-dream where she answered a lot of his _other_ feelings as well.  In the end, he spoke softly again to his friend.  _God, she's gorgeous, don't I got reason to be nervous?_

No answer came; looking over to Mur', he found the Jockey fast asleep, shivering slightly on the bundle of blankets he called his bed, and that prompted him to close his eyes as well and let the half-dream carry him back to a realm of sleep-fuelled possibilities.

 

The next day, as Kenny waved off his three friends as they went hunting, his stomach didn't stop turning and bubbling – translating his rising excitement into nausea and tension.  Sweets noticed it and quietly voiced a cough-riddled question.

_You gonna be okay, Ken'?  Maybe... maybe you should, uh, let off some, uh, steam-_

_Yeah, if ya don't have puke, ya can't puke all over 'er, Kenny._   Davey's addition was, as always, spoken with a toothy grin, but his tone was still a little curt as he spoke, showing that he hadn't forgotten the treatment of the night before.  _Sweets, c'mon, let's go, 'fore he pukes over_ us _instead, huh?_

 _Yoooooou hoooooope, you'd looook betterrrrr with some puuuuuuke over youuuuuu..._ , Murray was quick to voice, and instantly another argument unfolded between the Hunter and the Jockey – Kenny gave Sweets a look of sympathy and spoke softly, his voice gurgling almost as badly as his stomach.

_...Go quickly, while they haven't killed each other yet – and remember, stay safe, 'kay?_

_Same to you, Ken' – don't let this chick, this May, get yer head all twisted in knots so you walk right into th'arms of Survivors... we want you back._ The Smoker rarely grinned – he claimed it hurt to stretch his skin any more than it'd already been stretched – but now he genuinely conjured a masterful grin that'd make Davey proud, and he even managed a conspiring wink as well.  Watching the backs of his retreating friends – and listening to the bickering of Murray and Dave as they disappeared in between the buildings – Kenny waited for just another minute, until the sound of his friends' voices had blended with the indistinct amalgamation of noise that was audible in the city, before slowly winding his way down the stairs.  Out in the alleyway, he quickly puked in the trashcan he always used for the purpose to relieve his aching stomach, figuring that Davey's advice, even if it was creepy, was sound enough – but then, when he heard soft shuffling and coughs issue from the store, he put the lid onto the can again and walked inside, finding May standing at the window, looking outside.

_...H-hey._

_Hi, Kenny._ Even if he'd just emptied his sensitive stomach only seconds before, the sheer nervous excitement of her answering his greeting the way she did – warmly, somewhat shyly as well, and with a sort of natural allure that stole his breath for a split second – made it feel full to the brim again.  _...I, uh, hope your friends are okay givin' you up for a li'l while..._

_Y-yeah, they went huntin'.  I, uh... s-so what you wanna do?_

_Heh, well, if you'd like, I could show ya where I hunt and where I live – it's only fair since I know where you live and where you do your huntin'._ , she suggested, and he nodded.  He certainly was curious about her, about where she hunted and how – and with whom, because a lone Infected was just as much prey as a lone Survivor, though much less tasty.  _Maybe we can even do a li'l hunting together... grab a snack, you know..._

 _Sounds nice, May... lead the way, okay?  I, uh..._ , he muttered hesitantly as they set out, suddenly feeling utterly mismatched when comparing himself to her.  She had such long, graceful legs compared to his short, swollen limbs... she could outrun him in the blink of an eye.  _...Y-you, uh, might have to wait up for me from time to time-_

 _I'm by your side, Kenny – it's been a long time since I didn't have to run around, and havin' you by my side's a nice excuse to take it slow for once._ , she responded, smiling at him, exuding a soft puff of smoke that smelled like burning roses – instantly, Kenny matched her smile, relaxing as they walked out of the store, sticking close to the houses once they'd crossed the street.  _...Watch your step, okay?  Wouldn't want you to trip over a loose rock an' puncture yourself.  I mean, your friends'd lynch me._   The addition was spoken hastily, the words softened with a wink, and yet Kenny kept on smiling, her scent soothing and the sound of her voice pleasant – even more pleasant than Sweets'.

 _Heh, not to mention you'd get covered in goop.  ...Wow, you live a way off..._ , he mused as they crossed several blocks on foot slowly, halting every so often to stop and listen for something.  She waved one of her tongues lazily next to her as she answered.

_There's Hunters all 'round these parts – they're a pack._

_I know, Sweets doesn't like 'em and Davey-_

_He's your Hunter friend, right?  ...How's he doin'?_ , May asked, and Kenny smiled a little as he answered.

_He's recovered from that Tank attack pretty swiftly.  Didn't hurt that me an' the others gave him all the tender bits of meat we scavenged..._

_Nice to hear!_ , she said with a hint of a broad smile in her voice – and, Kenny was not at all surprised to hear, tremendous relief, which was further explained as she continued: _...You know, when I said that I'd seen Hunters bounce right back from Tank attacks, I, uh... I was sayin' that to make you feel better..._

 _I know – worked, too.  Thanks for that..._   The Smoker turned around when he thanked her, blushing softly – a greenish tinge had come over her cheeks and she exuded a thick cloud of smoke that shrouded her – however, before Kenny had the chance to comment, she coughed subtly and motioned for the street again, for the building on the opposite side.

 _Home sweet home...  C”mon, quickly, I wanna show you where I live!_ , she said, one of her tongues wrapping gently around his wrist to tug him along as they crossed the street – the extra appendage was muscular, just like Sweets', Kenny knew, but that was also where all similarities ended.  It wasn't slimy like his, for one, and it also didn't feel like sandpaper, more like calloused skin – rough, but not unpleasant.  All in all, May was very different from his friend.  _C'mon inside..._ , the female Smoker said softly as they headed into an alleyway to the side of the building, walking up to a battered-looking door.  Inside, as soon as the door closed, there was a sudden and loud blast of music echoing through the stairwell – it was impossible to hear what the song was, both due to the sheer volume and the acoustics of the vertical hallway.  However, May seemed unfazed by it, and she climbed the staircase quickly to the third floor.  Once they headed deeper inside the building, the noise from the music died away.  _...'m sorry for the music, but that's for the Hunters.  The, uh, scavengers, that is... they can't stand the noise, they-_

 _-got sensitive ears..._ , Kenny completed her sentence with a crooked grin, thinking of the screech of agony Davey would let slip if he ever found himself in that hallway.  _...That big of a Hunter problem 'round here, huh?_ , he asked, and May nodded gravely.

 _They constantly prey on everythin' that's moving, livin' or dead.  Constantly hungry.  I hate 'em.  Really, really_ hate _'em.  They... killed one of my friends._ Kenny reacted almost on instinct, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.  That gesture seemed to break the sadness within the Smoker, and she sighed, rubbing her face carefully with one hand.  _...She... didn't suffer much, and those bastards didn't eat her, neither.  Buried her in the park.  Swore I'll kill every last of those scrawny bitches that tried to snack on 'er – managed to kill three so far, but there's still three 'round here._

 _You'll get 'em in the end, May..._ , Kenny confessed, smiling encouragingly at her – when she smiled back, his heart leapt up.

 _...Now c'mon... hope you'll like my li'l home..._ , she said, leading Kenny into what clearly used to be a large office area, with screens partitioning the whole into smaller rooms and cubicles.  One of the cubicles showed a few slips of fabric poking from underneath the partitions, however, and when May ushered Kenny into it, he was surprised to see the small room cosily decorated.  _Here we go!  H-how d'you like it?_ , she asked, her voice wavering just a little – which was when Kenny realized she felt nervous as well – _she felt nervous as well!_ \- and he smiled.

 _I love it.  You... made a boring old room look like a li'l slice of heaven, May.  Really._ , he added when she blushed again – his addition made her turn around, hiding her increasing blush and masking her sudden nervosity clearly by trying to  open a package of something.  In the end, when it failed, she turned back to him, cheeks still greenish, and spoke so softly he had to strain to hear: _S-so, uh, you wanna do something?_

 _Well, I-I dunno..._ , he said, feeling giddy with excitement and at the same time cursing himself for being such an idiot and behaving like a teenager in love.  He had to remind himself that May was just intent on being his friend – though it was hard to keep up that thought when her tongue wrapped around his wrist.  _Maybe... you said we could maybe hunt together?_

 _Heh, yeah, but only if you're up for it.  There's a few places around here where the Hunters don't come, where we can hunt safely.  One of them's a park, and it's beautiful – it was my favorite place before the Infection, and it still is._ She smiled at him, her two extra tongues curling up slightly, which resulted in the tongue that was wrapped around his arm creeping upward just a little, resting around the middle of his lower arm.  _.Plenty of Commoners there to snack on, and I have to admit.. I'd love to see you in action, Kenny._

 _Not much 'action', though..._ , he admitted shyly.  _Most of the time, I just puke an' run away quickly-_

 _I think that's brilliant, Kenny._ , she said with a broad, warm grin, and he mirrored it with such fervor his heart ached almost as much as the corners of his mouth.  _...You wanna go to the park, hunt a little together?_

 _Ye-_   Kenny meant to speak up enthusiastically, but then he got rudely interrupted by a soft growl from the other side of the partitioning wall.

_Who's in there with ya, May?_

_Oh shi-_ , the female Smoker cursed under her breath, tensing suddenly before pulling her tongue away from Kenny's arm and speaking airily, her every word demoralizing the Boomer and pushing him further away, it seemed.  _J-just a friend I met the other day!  No one in particular!_

 _I don't believe ya!_ , the other Infected growled – his voice sounded much like Davey's, Kenny mused, and sure enough, when the mysterious third party rounded the corner, crouched on all fours and growling softly, it turned out to be a Hunter.  _...A Boomer?  Tell me, did ya come here to try any funny business on May?!_

 _N-no, uh..._   Kenny felt awkward – not only did the man consider him trespassing on his territory, but _he felt_ like a trespasser by then.  May seemed too startled to solve the situation, and the Hunter didn't seem in any kind of mood to introduce himself.  In fact, he growled even louder, apparently not satisfied with Kenny's answer.  However, just when he meant to shuffle slowly away, May seemed to find her mental footing again and she wrapped one tongue around Kenny's shoulders in a copy of the friendly gesture Sweets did – though the male Smoker still used his hands and arms, fortunately – and the other tongue around the Hunter's upper arm, pulling him up from his ready-to-pounce crouched position.

_Paolo, this is Kenny, he's the guy I told you about.  Kenny, this is Paolo, my hunting partner._

_Oh, he's_ that _'no one in particular'!_ , the Hunter said, a note of relief in his soft growl which was now devoid of hostility but got the slightest hint of jealousy in it suddenly.  _...Lemme tell ya right away, I don't like you.  And if you ever don't  behave like a perfect angel in May's company, then so help me..._

 _I... yeah... 'course..._ , Kenny stammered, blinking rapidly in an attempt to process it all.  Was this Paolo her hunting partner?

And then, thinking of his friends – of Davey and Sweets and those many secrets they shared and the depth of their codependency – the next question rapidly became whether Paolo was more than just her _hunting_ partner... and whether he still stood a chance at all.

 _...you'd better have a damn good explanation for why you come bustin' in, Paolo..._ , May wheezed – Kenny, having lost track of the conversation between the two of them, lost in thoughts as he had been, looked at May, barely suppressing the melancholy sigh that threatened to escape him.  However, the Hunter noticed and growled lowly – Kenny supposed it was a mirthful chuckle, after which he snorted and answered May.

 _Believe me, I have a very good reason.  I spotted Reeves again-_ Instantly, May's posture changed from slightly tense to completely tensed, her tongues retracting and the cloud of smoke around her growing opaque.

_Reeves...  God damn it, if he's back, that means-_

_Yep.  His two cronies were with him, though, so there's no chance you'll even get to see him.  I don't want you runnin' risks, not if there may be an easier way._ Then, casting a wary glance at Kenny, the Hunter added softly: _...Besides, it's none of_ his _business._

 _I decide whose business it is, Paolo.  ...But you're right, if the risk is that high, I don't wanna involve Kenny._ Finally, as if she'd just remembered him, she turned back to the Boomer, who felt more than demoralized by then – and who was silently starting to think whether she'd notice if he just went off on his own.  He wouldn't even feel bad if a Hunter caught him and sprayed the contents of his body over the street with one claw.  May seemed to see that look of dejection, too, and her voice was soft despite the tension in her shoulders.  _Kenny, I'm so sorry... I promised you to go huntin' together, but..._

 _I-it's okay, May, I... I can... maybe later?_ , he finished miserably, and the look of relief that crossed her features, staying on there, was like a stab to his heart, sinking his final hope.

_...I'll get you back to your friends, okay?_

_May-_ , the Hunter interrupted, going silent when May raised one slender hand and shook her head.

 _Paolo, d'you wanna have him sleep on the floor?!  He needs to go back home and he's vulnerable, so I'm takin' him back!_ The Smoker turned and walked to the door, Kenny following her as quickly as he could – but even as he did, the Hunter growled loudly at his retreating figure.

_If May is hurt in any way, I swear to God I'm huntin' you down!!_


	7. Step 6: Get lousy advice from a friend and nearly end up Tank bait

_...Aw man..._ Kenny felt even worse after sharing the story of his day with Sweets, Murray and a disinterested Davey – though he had to admit there wasn't a lot of difference between the painful realization that he was hopelessly outmatched right from the beginning and the even more painful way Davey had just pointed that out.  Murray's groan –  _the Jockey wasn't even laughing, it was so sad!_ \- in no way conveyed how he felt, and Sweets' threat to strangle Dave if he upset him even more seemed feeble consolation.   _Well, guess it was a nice dreeeeaaaaam..._ The chuckle that warped his speech was weak and even somewhat sympathetic, and that got on Kenny's mind more than anything else.  Groaning loudly, he walked to the door.

_...Anyone mind if I go a floor lower 'fore I puke myself empty all over Dave?_ The Hunter's offended screech that followed got him and the two others bickering among each other, something Kenny happily tuned out as he walked into the stairwell and slowly stepped down the stairs.  He could still hear the three arguing overhead when he arrived at the room he'd intended to go to, but that was just as well, because it soothed him somewhat.

The solitude gave him time to think again: about May, about how she'd practically ran back home to Paolo, about how she'd hastily excused herself with 'explain some other time'... and about how he'd just walked by her side, his senses numbed, his thoughts too focused to push the pain from his heart in order to register her exact words.  A Tank could've torn the city to shreds around him and he wouldn't even have seen it.

 _...Ah, May... damn it, why'd you have to have a damn_ Hunter _with ya..._

 _Careful, Kenny, ya sap, or I'm gonna start feelin' less sorry for your lovesick ass._ , came a comment from the doorway – sure enough, there stood Davey, picking an imaginary speck of dirt from the doorframe with his sharpened nail.

 _Dave, seriously, you're the last guy I wanna have 'round here now.  In case ya didn't hear me before, I'm this close to just_ heavin' _all over you-_ , Kenny reacted a little waspishly, but the Hunter just grinned, exposing sharp, yellowed teeth, and walked over to Kenny with his usual ranging gait.

_Relax, Spewski, an' listen first.  I maybe know a good way to get you outta your misery – an' into that May chick's pants, if that's what ya want-_

_DON'T talk about her like that, you jackass!_ , Kenny reacted crossly, though he wasn't irate anymore at Davey for his earlier reaction that had basically meant 'you're hopelessly screwed'.  Davey seemed to realize that he was in the clear as well, because he stepped closer again.

 _Y'know I didn't mean no disrespect, man...  So, you wanna let me help ya?  Or d'you agree with Sweets that, uh, 'bein' helped  by me is the best possible way to screw whatever chance you still got'?_ , the Hunter asked, quoting the reaction the Smoker had voiced before – the honest answer, of course, was that Kenny agreed with Sweets and that he was wary of Davey's advice, but desperate times seemed to call to desperate measures, and listening to the Hunter seemed just about the most desperate he could get.

_...Okay, go ahead..._

_T-they're quieeeeeet..._ , Murray mused, laughing nervously – something that Sweets could agree to.  It had been two hours since he'd sent down the Hunter to go talk with Kenny.  When the Hunter did something to upset their Boomer friend, he usually didn't even show he was sorry for it, but now Sweets had told him 'not to come back up unless after you told Kenny you're sorry, you miserable piece of dung' so he sure as hell hoped the silence was just Kenny's shock at the Hunter actually _apologising_ for once.

 _It's gettin' on my nerves now..._ , Sweets muttered in between a few almost inaudible coughs.  _Dave usually screeches up the joint when he's talkin', but now?  Either he really doesn't wanna let anyone overhear or he ain't the one doin' the talking, and that's just not possible.  Listenin' isn't in his mental dictionary._

 _Ye-yeeeaaaah, ehehehe..._ , Murray said with a soft manic chuckle, looking around a little nervously before tacking on an even more soft-spoken continuation: _Daaaaaave's too much of an asssss to listeeeeeeen to anyone, ahaha... haha... hah..._   His louder laughter died away quickly, however – clearly the Jockey had expected Dave to have been listening in and to break his silence by screeching badly veiled threats at him for the insult, but no such reaction followed.

 _You like rilin' Davey, don't you, Mur'?_ , Hubert asked – the Jockey meant to answer but first waved a hand in front of his face to disperse the thick cloud of smoke that had been forming around the two of them; once he could see again, or felt like the cloud wasn't suffocating him anymore, he spoke.

_Iiiiiiiiit's funnyyyyy, havin' Daaaaaave shoutin' an' fussiiiiiiin' over stupid insultssssss, hehehe...  but I neeeeeeeverrrrrr mean 'em, youuuuuu know thaaaaaaat, Sweetsiiiieeeeeeheeheehee..._

_I know – an' I think Dave knows, too, 'cause he's never once tried to actually kill you, no matter how many times he threatened to strangle you or disembowel you-_

_Thaaaaat's just 'cause heeeeeeeeeee – ehehe... 'Cause he knoooooows how I'll taaaaaaaste, ahahahahahahahaha-_

_'Ey, would you two shut yer damn mouths?!!_ , came a shout from the doorway – sure enough, Dave came stalking back in, crouched on all fours and sniffing the air.  Instantly, Sweets turned to him, the question ready on his lips.

_D'you talk to Kenny an' apologise?_

_Yeah, yeah, said sorry – would ya get to the important part already?  We gotta go an' hunt._ Sweets raised his one eyebrow, the pustules on the other side of his face puffing out another thick cloud of green-tinged smoke.

_Why do we gotta go hunt?  We just hunted this afternoon an' found nothing, remember?_

_Christ, would ya stop with the fuckin' questions?!  I know that, I was there, r'member?!_ , Davey reacted with an offended growl – but it was something in his guttural noise, a hint of smugness, that had Sweets realize why he suddenly suggested a hunt.

 _I should'a known, you told Kenny that you could help 'im win this May chick for himself!  God damn it, Dave, th'last thing Kenny needs is help from_ you _, ya idiot!  A Hunter got 'im in this mess in th'first place, an' now you think you can magically solve 'is problems with a hunt – well, I'm not playin' along._ , he reacted, his groans wheezy and hoarse and mucous to show his disgust and his utter denunciation of whatever plan he'd hatched.

 _You seriously expect me an' Kenny to go out there all by our lonesomes?  You can't even let me_ or _him go take a dump alone, ya control freak-_

 _Oh,_ you _'re one to talk, asshole, ya keep tellin' Murray not to come too close to Kenny 'cause you're afraid he'll punch a hole in 'im-_

_THAT'S DIFF'RENT!_

_-an' now you wanna take him on a hunt that's probably gonna end Ken up in a lot more danger 'n Jockey nails-_

_C-could the twooooooo of you shut iiiiiiiiiiit?!_ , Murray cried out, shivering from head to toe with nervous laughter – both the Hunter and the Smoker halted their arguing and turned to the Jockey, who seemed to cower under their scrutiny for a second before speaking up again.  _K-kennyyyyyy's gonna beeeee fiiiiiiiiine, but I dooooon't see the harrrrrrrrrm in a li'l hunt... 'splain your plaaaaaaaan, Daaaaaaaaveeeeeyyyyyyy._

 _...Oh for fuck's sake, now I gotta tell_ Chuckles _the damn plan-_ , Dave reacted in a low, slightly acidic growl, but Sweets was quick to shut him up.

_Either you tell us the plan, or you can kiss it goodbye, an' I don't care what you told Kenny, you brainless shit._

_Okay, okay, okay!!  Chriiiist, Sweets, you gotta learn to relax!  ...I suggested the followin'..._

_I still don't like this plan._ , Sweets admitted as they looked down from the rooftop over the deserted car park. There were one or two Commoners that were ambling about, but considering the state of the rest of the city, it was as pristine and calm as the middle of the desert.  _Markin' a place, that's the thinking of a Hunter if I ever saw it, plus, well...  ...It don't feel right bein' here... like we're bein' watched..._

 _Oh, shut yer trap, Sweets, everyone's a critic – trust me, when'd I ever lead ya wrong?_ , Dave reacted somewhat crossly, glowering at the Smoker.  However, the next moment, he turned to Kenny and his voice betrayed genuine glee. _Ya ready, Upchuck-o-matic Man?_

 _W-what's thaaaaaat, a nickname?_ , Murray said derisively, snorting with laughter that was contemptuous more than anything else – the Hunter didn't react, which was mostly a testament to his commitment to the plan.  A low, almost inaudible snarl had the Jockey whimper and fall back in line as well.  _O-okaaaaayyyyy, y-yeah, you ready, Kennyyyyyyy?_

 _…_ The Boomer's stomach seemed to bubble in reply.  He wasn't ready, not even close, but he had to be.  The plan seemed simple enough – the car park had an office building that'd been reinforced and which was frequently used as a 'safe haven' by Survivors, but he'd give it the same treatment as the office building, puking on the inside so that anyone entering the building, even days after he'd been there, would instantly set off the Commoners – but so many of their hunting schemes were simple and there'd been a few close calls nevertheless.  In the end, with all three of his friends looking at him to confirm that they could set out, he groaned and replied.  _...Ready as I'll ever be..._

 _Then let's go.  R'member, Ken', you stick with me today.  Sweets's our lookout up top an' Murray's our lookout at th'car park entrance.  Anythin' goes wrong, ya run back here, 'kay?  Sweets, man, if somethin'_ does _go wrong, I-_

 _Don't you dare say it, David, ya Hunter shit, if somethin' goes wrong I want the pleasure of killin' you myself, don't forget it, okay?_ The Smoker's voice had been edgy but also oddly caring – normally Kenny would smile, but now sheer nervousness made him oblivious to the notion.  _...Kenny, you don't have to do this, y'know-_ , Sweets said, but Kenny shook his head.  His friend's one visible eye was looking right at him, worry clear in his facial features and even more apparent in the soft, almost transparent but fragrant haze of smoke surrounding him.

_...N-no, I wanna do this._

_That's the spirit, Kenny-boy, now let's run 'fore we grow roots an' get stuck here, 'kay?_   Dave led the way into the stairwell – where he leapt down the stairs with big, graceful bounds, Kenny was confined to hobbling awkwardly down the stairs, but the Hunter waited for him every so often before setting off again.  It inspired Kenny to move just a little faster and a little more self-certain, and before he even knew it, he was already weaving between cars parked at awkward angles, some with open doors and one even with the keys still in the ignition.  _...Damn it, Sweets..._ , Dave growled when they slowed down as they neared the safe room – Kenny meant to ask what the Hunter meant but he could guess that his friend was sensing the odd feeling about the calmth as well.  It was quiet in the car park – eerily quiet, to be precise – and he suddenly understood why the Smoker had felt like they were being watched.  It felt like the car park was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable moment of pandemonium.

 _...L-look, Dave-_ , the Boomer started, looking around the deserted parking lot – but just when he meant to speak up, he heard a soft chuckle from beyond another cluster of cars, breaking the awkward silence and making him relax again.  Murray's laughter had shown him that it had just been a little too quiet for his liking – nothing more.  _...Okay, let's go, l-let's do this._ , he said with renewed courage, walking on briskly behind the Hunter, who was now crouched on all fours and ready to pounce the least sign of trouble appearing.

The 'safe haven' turned out to be deserted, as they'd already expected – there were a few empty cans on the table that smelled somewhat rife but the cupboards were still plenty full, and the blankets lay in disorganized piles, ready for someone else to pick up and use, all showing that Survivors were still expected.  _Well, not anymore once I'm finished with this place..._ , Kenny mused mirthfully, quickly bounding into the safe haven and setting to work.  The office space was small compared to the ground floor of his office building, but he still used his puke sparingly, saving some up in case trouble decided to turn up anyway – or in case a Survivor turned up against all odds.  _...Careful, Davey, don't step in it, or the horde'll tear ya apart-_

_Like I'd step in crap like that, Kenny – jus' hurry up, okay?_

_Hunters got sensitive noses as well?_ , Kenny guessed, and his friend's somewhat offended growl made him grin ever so slightly as he turned away, to the final corner of the office-turned-safe-room.

It was then that he felt something – a dull thud on the concrete somewhere close that made a vibration run up his legs and into his stomach.  He halted, looking around but seeing nothing.  Murray was still chuckling merrily out between the cars, and Sweets' eternal cough still sounded from the building overlooking their position – so it probably was his imagination playing tricks on him.

 _Kenny, what're ya waitin' for, Christmas?_ , Davey's voice sounded behind him, impatient and slightly irritated as it always had been – the Boomer sighed and shuffled on, unleashing one final load of bile over the most remote corner of the safe room, where the blankets lay – to his satisfaction, some of the blankets seemed to eagerly absorb the greenish liquid, meaning any Survivor napping in the safe room ran the risk of getting a nice dose of zombie attractant on themselves even if they managed to steer clear of the rest of it.  _Ya done?  Okay, then, let's go-_

The Hunter paused mid-sentence, at the exact same time another ripple of energy seemed to run from the concrete through Kenny's legs into his stomach, where it felt like it resonated with the anxious beating of his heart.  For a second, the two stood in silence, looking at each other, and then the Hunter gave a muted groan.

_...Let's move..._

_'Kay._ Kenny didn't argue and moved to the door as quickly and quietly as he could, right behind the Hunter.  Silence enveloped them – the same silence that Kenny had found so eerie only minutes before, he now welcomed with all his heart – as they ran through the car park once more, back in the direction of the building where they'd come from.

 _Didya doooooooooo it, Kennyyyyyyy?!_   Murray's laughter sounded louder than gunfire in the silence, and nearly got Dave to screech loudly for the Jockey to shut his mouth; instead, however, the Hunter bit his tongue – he seemed to do so litterally, even – and growled lowly and quietly in response.

 _Somethin''s off, Mur' – keep that li'l Jockey mouth shut or y'ain't gonna make it outta here alive, got it?!_   The Jockey luckily seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, because he nodded and fell in line behind them, looking around nervously as they ran through the car park.

Just as they made it to the edge, however, a loud roar preceded the sudden quasi-explosion of the street right next to the building with Sweets on the roof – and a Tank appeared from amidst the rubble.  It didn't seem to notice them right away – looking around for a few seconds, it seemed to be confused as to where it had appeared – but then, it spotted them and roared again malevolently before setting off right at them, barreling through a lamppost and smashing aside one of the cars parked on the street right into the building they'd meant to enter.

 _Shiiit, RUN!!_ , Davey screeched as he leapt back they way they'd come, back into the car park.  Kenny followed him as fast as he could, but it felt too slow – his legs felt too swollen, his stomach too tense and full even if he'd all but emptied it moments before.  Next to him, Murray ran, keeping close and laughing like a maniac – the Jockey couldn't help it, he laughed even louder when nervous.  _Shiiiiiit!!_ , Davey growled out when a chunk of concrete the size of a jeep hit the spot he'd been standing at a split second before the impact – but his growl turned into a wild screech the next second – _HOLY FUCK, MOOOOVE!!! –_ when a car got tossed at them by a haphazard swing of the hulking giant Infected's arm.

 _We gotta get away fast, or we're lunch!_ , Kenny shouted at the Hunter, and Davey's reaction was an equally panicked screech.

_How?!  He ain't stoppin' for nothin'!_

_A hooooooooorde miiiiiiiiiiight slow hi-hi-hiiiiim down!_ , Murray said, but Davey's impatient growl shut up the Jockey before he could make any further remarks.

_I'm NOT lettin' Kenny go anywhere NEAR that FUCKIN' MONSTER-_

_I don't have to go near 'im, Dave – the office!_ , Kenny said; his friend looked confused for a second before paling.

_B-but all the work y'put into-_

_It's our only chance!_ , Kenny cut him off, turning towards the office and running as fast as he could towards it, Davey following him with a loud, frustrated battlecry and Murray still running by his side, panting as he ran.

 _Ho-hooooope it wooooorks..._ , the Jockey said while they ran around a cluster of cars.

 _Kenny, I can jump over the buildin', and you can run through, but Chuckles's gonna get covered in shit if he runs through!_ , Dave commented when they came closer to the building again, one final row of cars separating them from their destination.  Kenny slowed down a little, realizing the truth in his friend's words – they couldn't risk Murray climbing the building, they couldn't risk him running around and clueing the Tank in on the trap that lay in wait... he had to run through, but carefully, or...

_Murray!  Climb on that car an' jump aboard!_

_No way!_ , Dave screeched, intending to protest at the top of his lungs, but Kenny cut him off again, his almost bubbling groans impatient and edged.

 _Dave, it's either me or you, and you can't jump that buildin' with someone ridin' you!  It's the only way!_ The Hunter looked at the  building again and then growled lowly to show his agreement – and, in one breath, to warn the Jockey that he'd better be careful with his sharp little nails – and then he jumped.  It was a magnificent leap of over twenty feet, right onto the building's roof, and then another bound and he was gone from sight, calling out to Kenny and Murray from the other side.

_HURRYYYYY!!_

_We're runnin', we're runnin'!_ , Kenny assured him as Murray leapt onto the hood of the car parked nearest the office space, taking one look back at the approaching Tank, who roared loudly behind them, making him sound closer than he actually was; and then the Jockey jumped at him, landing right on his shoulders.  With some fear, Kenny felt the nails of his friend dig into his arms: he'd seen Boomers explode from lesser wounds, sometimes even bursting seemingly uninjured.  But when the pain subsided and he didn't feel his body tear open like an overly ripe grapefruit, he figured he was in the clear and made for the office space as fast as he could, almost feeling the hot, sniffing breaths of the angry Tank on his back, it seemed.  Once inside, the smell of his own bile assaulted his senses – it surprised him just a little.  He had never smelled his own vomit as clearly as then, and neither had he felt the hot pinpricks of fear dance over his spine just as badly as he felt them then.

 _Go ooooooon, gooooo ooooon..._   Murray's muted groan, only marginally warped for once, got him to amble forward, avoiding puddles of his own sick as nimbly as he could muster, stepping around the largest one in the center and then making his way out the door to the back of the office at the exact moment when the Tank crashed through the door he'd entered through.  _SHIIIHIIIHIIIIIIITTT!!_ , the Jockey exclaimed, his fingernails digging into Kenny's meager mop of hair and urging him to run even faster.  The sound of the Tank tearing through the office space behind him was disconcerting – and the fact that none of the Commoners wandering the streets they now ran through were running up to the building made his heart sink.  It wasn't working, the horde he'd hoped for wasn't coming, the Tank'd chase them right out of the city-

 _WHEREAREYAAAAAAAAAAAAH?!!_ The thundering roar behind him preceded the crash of concrete blocks into the street – but the sheer fact that he _understood a Tank_ made Kenny turn around to see the gigantic Infected stand in the hole it'd torn into the side of the office, sniffing the air once again trying to pinpoint them.

The roar was answered by another one, a polyphonous cry from the fifty or hundred mouths of the Commoners standing in the street as they finally smelled the scent of Boomer bile on the Tank.  They ran up to the Tank, faces twisted in completely mute rage and hunger.  The first ten or so zombies to reach the Tank got smacked aside, but the next twenty had managed to sink their teeth int its exposed flesh and weren't shaken off so easily – and by the time the unfortunate Tank had taken out those twenty, the number had already multiplied until finally, it seemed like a sea of Infected boiled around the hulking form, kicking and punching and biting and tearing and hurting, and the Tank's roars became groans that finally subsided to whimpers as the horde feasted on his body while he still struggled.  Kenny stumbled away, too shocked to avert his eyes – and he stood watching until he smelled the familiar acrid scent of cigarette smoke and a calloused hand patted him on the shoulder, and the wheezy voice he'd wished so badly to hear before sounded.

_...C'mon, Kenny... come on, let's head on home again.  Let's... there's nothin' left to do here but scram, so c'mon..._


	8. Step 7: Try and beat the lovesickness and nearly see your best friend killed while helping you

_It was irresponsible, immature, and very badly prepared!  You could've all gotten killed-_

_It wasn't immature, ya goddamn asshole – and nobody could've prepared for a fuckin' Tank attackin'-_

_-lucky I don't strangle you on the spot, you stupid brainless Hunter piece of shit-_

_-DON'T HAVE TO FUCKIN' ANSWER TO_ YOU, _HUBERT-_

 _...D'you thiiiiiiink they'll stop arguin' toniiiiiiight, Keeeeennyyyy?_ , Murray whimpered beside him, and Kenny sighed, not knowing the answer.  He still felt numb on the inside – and to make matters worse, he kept seeing images of May's face, of that Paolo guy's face and his grin when May offered to bring him home, and of the angry Tank that got eaten alive-  _He wasn't alive, not anymore._ , Kenny corrected himself somewhat miserably.  The knowledge that that Tank hadn't been alive anymore for a long time didn't exactly cheer hum up much.

 _Did you understand what that Tank was shoutin' before the the horde got 'im, Mur'?_ , Kenny asked; his friend nodded, his voice soft and only marginally warped by the slightest hint of laughter as he answered.

 _N-no, but heeeeeeeeee was runnin' aroooouuuund all confuuuuuused... like he didn't seeeeeeeeeeeheeheehee usssss..._   _Why d'you ask, Kennyyyyyy?_

_I've never been able to understand Tanks' roars and snorts, but today I heard 'im loud an' clear. And I'm kind of worried 'bout that.  What's it mean?_

_It means nothiiiiiiin'!_ , Murray eagerly supplied, though his voice sounded hopeful rather than decisive, and Kenny meant to speak on, to say that he wasn't so sure of that, when a soft cough sounded from the doorway followed by a wheezy second answer to his question.

 _It means you're worryin' again, Kenny, and that's no good.  Relax, okay?  It's just a coincidence._   Sweets stood in the doorway, nursing several scratches to his arms and one slash across his cheek and nose, along with a few puncture wounds among the pustules on the other side of his face from which thick, acrid-smelling smoke swirled at a steady pace.  Guessing the multitude of questions the Jockey and the Boomer had on their mind at the sight of him, Sweets sighed and spoke on: _Davey's layin' on his nest, knocked out – couldn't stand his backtalkin' anymore and I strung him up by his ankles.  Then he started goin' to town on whatever part of me he could find an' I... think I broke five of his teeth punchin' him right in the face.  Went out like a light.  Just as well, too – if he'd said one more word, I would'a walked.  Damn Hunter prick, thinkin' he's_ entitled _'cause he can jump twenty feet..._

 _He prob'ly didn't mean to hurt you-_ , Murray started – his voice, for once, devoid of laughter as a testament to his shock – but the Smoker shook his head softly.

_Oh, believe me, he meant it, the li'l shit did.  But I get what you guys mean, and he... yeah, he didn't want to hurt me, just vent his frustration.  ...Still, hope he wakes up with a poundin' headache, it'd serve him right._

_Aaaaww, Sweetsie, you doooooon't mean thaaaaaaaat!_ , Murray said in between soft giggles. _'Siiiides, what could Daaaaaaaaave ever sayyyyyyy to make you think 'bout walkiiiiiiiiiiin' away?_   The Smoker fell silent, sighing out a light puff of less acrid smoke – it smelled almost fresh, as if Hubert had just brushed his teeth – and then he answered with a light grumble, like a whisper.

_...He said he was the only one who'd ever put up with 'my shit'.  Called me a pansy, a coward... an' then, 'course, he said that takin' me was the worst thing he ever did, and righ' then I said 'well fuck you too, David, you prick' and I punched 'is lights out._

_Serves him right._ , Kenny said emphatically, and Murray chimed in the next second, his laughter grim and his words chosen to further that effect.

_Daaaaaaave is such an fuuuuuuckin' aaaaaaassssshole!  ...'m sorryyyyyyyy for you, Sweeeeeeeeetsie, to have such a diiiiiiiiiick for a friiiiiiieeeeeend-_

_It's okay... now, at least all of us are still alive._ , Sweets said, patting Kenny's shoulder again like he'd done when trying to move the Boomer out of his stupor before.  _Kenny, that was some good thinkin' of you.  Risky, but good._ Blushing slightly at the praise of his friend – not just his words, but the tone of awe in which they were said – Kenny forgot for a moment why he'd felt so badly at ease since the attack; however, when Murray mentioned it, he remembered and the feeling of almost painful shock returned.

_Kennyyyyy sa-said he understoooooood that Taaaaaaaank!_

_Really?_   Sweets' surprised words made Kenny look at his friend in equal surprise.

_Yeah, I did... didn't understand a word they yelled before, but now... I suddenly heard him yell to us 'where are ya' – it sounded, I dunno, a li'l slurred, but what d'you expect, a Tank doesn't have a lower jaw-_

_Yeah, I get that... but you understood it?  ...Murray, did you?_

_N-nooooo, I didn't..._ , the Jockey stammered, chuckling nervously at the end – a testament to the growing sense of foreboding that Kenny was starting to get.  The Smoker, however, seemed to be thinking about something; when he voiced it the next second, Kenny understood that he was analyzing the situation in his usual detached and rational way – just like he always planned their hunts meticulously, thinking through every possibility and making sure they operated together so well that their prey, whether Infected or not, didn't stand a chance.

_...So whatever this is, it's just Kenny... anythin' else unusual happen lately?  Get any urges?  Sleep bad?  Bile less powerful, or more?_

_N-no, apart from havin' heard a Tank scream 'where are ya' at me, everything was... just regular.  Nothin' special happened lately._ However, he knew that there was _one_ special thing that had happened lately: the fact that he'd found out that May hunt together with someone that could be...  He cut the thought off with an impatient growl: _No, nothin'._

_...You still touchy about that May girl, huh?  Would it help if I told ya she's dumb for ditchin' you for some Hunter?_

_...Coming from you, as a Smoker, and with the Davey thing-_ , Kenny started, intending to say that it didn't really help him feel any better, but Sweets' sigh indicated he'd already realized as much himself.

_'Course.  Yeah, forget I mentioned it, Kenny.  ….An' the entire 'Davey thing'... I dunno, maybe it's time I started cuttin' loose from him, see if he likes his freedom more 'n he likes me._

_Dooooooooooooooon't cut looooooooooooose from Daveeeeeeeeey, what're meeeeee an' Kennyyyyyyyyyyyyy gonna do without youuuuuuuuuu?,_ Murray said softly, causing the Smoker to laugh wheezily.

_Dunno what you'll do without me, but Dave might end up killin' you for real, Mur'.  And as for Kenny, I think he can take that big gas bag on any day, but he just don't want to, right, Kenny?_

_I think a man has to be crazy to wanna take Davey on._ , the Boomer commented, grinning from ear to ear – the next second, however, he turned serious again.  _...But Davey might want to take_ you _on, Sweets.  If ya punched him-_

 _...Shit, yeah, didn't figure that into my equations_ , the Smoker admitted, the cloud of smoke around his figure growing denser and his tongues waving from side to side agitatedly – but then Murray spoke up again, his voice devoid of laughter again even though his expression was just about as manic as it could get.

 _Miiiiiiiiiight not be a bad idea to go huuuuuuuntiiiiiing!_ , he suggested in a sing-song tone, and Sweets' mucous cough sounded too much like happy laughter to Kenny, successfully pushing away his cares about the risks of an impromptu hunt just when they'd fended off a Tank with nothing but quick thinking and even quicker running.

_...It's quiet._ , Sweets said – his cough sounded loud like a gunshot in the utter silence surrounding the three, even though it'd just been a whispered grumble – and Murray stifled nervous laughter behind his claws.  The Jockey felt it too – they all felt it, Kenny admitted.  _It's way too quiet... normally there's Commoners 'round here, even at night... and now it's deserted?  I don't buy it._

 _M-maaayyybe that Tank came through 'ere?_ , Murray suggested with no small measure of misplaced chuckles warping his voice.  Kenny had to admit that the idea held merit – not only was the ground liberally splattered with blood and was a gaping hole visible in the wall ahead of them, with the right size and diameter to have been caused by a Tank... there was also the smell of its sweat, pungent and strong, permeating the entire hall they were now crossing.  _Iiiiit got a snaaaaaack here, I'll bet... scared the ooooooothers awaaaayyyyyy..._

_It's more than just a Tank snackin' on some Commoners, Mur' – if it'd be just a Tank passin' through here, the Commoners would return after he passed through, but now they ain't comin' back.  ...I don't have a good feelin' about this, guys.  Might not be a bad idea to risk Davey killin' me for punching 'im-_

_I'm with you on this one, Sweets – I mean, I have this gut feelin'-_

_Yoooouuuu got a loooooot of gut, that'sssss what you're feeeeeliiiiiin'!_ , Murray said almost jokingly, causing the three Infeccted to feel a little better at ease again.  The silence, when it fell again, wasn't as uncomfortable as it'd been before, and the three friends walked through the abandoned warehouse a little more relaxed.  But not completely relaxed: Sweets' tongues twitched every so often, ready to strike out, and Kenny's stomach didn't bubble nearly as much as it usually did, the tension making it feel taut and getting his first portion of bile ready to exit him in one quick heave.  _...If theeeeeeere's nooooooo Commonerrrrrrrrssssss, we should gooooooo hunt somewheeeeeere elsssssse..._ , Murray said, and Kenny groaned his consent.

_Yeah, we came to hunt, not to... stand around here lookin' for something that's not around._

_...Okay, let's head on then-_ , Sweets started, only to get cut off abruptly by an almost sing-song voice.

_Too laaaaate!_

_The fuuuuuuuuuuuuck?_ , Murray reacted – the Jockey's response summed up their sentiments perfectly as three Hunters suddenly leapt down from one of the windowsills above.  All three of them had manic grins – _hungry_ grins – and instantly as they advanced, the three friends took a step back, staying by each other's side.

 _...Kenny, stick close..._ , Hubert muttered, and the Boomer nodded.  Meanwhile, Sweets continued, looking at the Hunters somewhat defiantly: _So you three're the reason that Tank went berserk, huh?  Came here an' thought you'd bring it down, righ'?_

_Too right... shame it ran away, we hunted it all the way 'cross town... but when a door closes, a window opens, ehehe, and heeeeeeere you are!  'S almost too easy!  A Puker, a li'l perv bastard an' a Smoker, comin' walkin' in here like you own the joint..._

_Pfeh, like_ you _own 'the joint', you li'l scavenging assholes._ , Sweets said, and instantly the posture of the three Hunters changed – two of them recoiled visibly, as if struck in the face, and the third one growled in ire, clearly feeling the insult as sharply as the Smoker had meant it.  That insult was compounded when he added: _...If you weren't scavengers, or at least cowards lookin' for an easy fight, you wouldn't hang 'round here but you'd hunt like proper Hunters._

_Shut your filthy mouth, you smoke-breathin' piece of shit, or you're first to go!_

_Yeah, well, I'd like to see you try, asshole._ , the Smoker said – when one of the Hunters leapt at him without even making a sound, Sweets plucked him out of the air by wrapping one of his tongues around his ankles, and then he slammed the unfortunate Hunter against the concrete floor, eliciting a high-pitched, pained yelp from it, before he threw him at the closest wall where it slumped unconscious, its legs laying in an awkward angle.  _Any of you two wanna try 's well?_

 _YOU PIECE OF SHIT!_ , the second Hunter bellowed, though he didn't strike, instead leaping over to his comrade, leaving the third Hunter to growl and crouch low.

_...For that, you'll die slowly, fume-breathin' retard.  Slowly an' painfully, beggin' for mercy-_

_God, your_ talkin' _makes me wanna beg for mercy already, so shut your damn mouth._ Sweets' rebuttal was instant and it made the Hunter he'd addressed growl all the more loudly.  However, he didn't pounce immediately.

Instead, the second Hunter, the one that had leapt to his comrade at the wall, jumped first, knocking Murray over with an extatic cry.

_I got 'im!_

_Oh hell no ya don't!_ , Sweets cried out, picking up the Hunter before it could lay a clawed finger on the Jockey, raising him up and then throwing him at the floor hard, where he lay motionless, giving one faint growl and then falling silent.  It drew Sweets' attention away from the third one, however, who'd been waiting for a moment of inattention like that one and who pounced the Smoker with a loud cry.  Kenny, who'd been standing right behind him when the Hunter made his move, was pushed back, staggering a little from the force of the impact – the floor lay full of jagged rocks and shards of glass from when the Tank had burst through it, and if the Boomer fell, he was as sure as dead.  Quickly, he turned to find a thick cloud of smoke obscure the Hunter and the Smoker that had fallen onto his back, but occasionally he could make out Sweets' anguished wheezes and flashes of claws stained with thick, dark, syrupy blood, and he knew that his friend was being ground to a pulp by the rage-filled Hunter.  He had to act, he had to-

_Kennyyyyyy, K-keeeeennnyyyyyyyy we gotta doooooo somethiiiiiiin'!!!_

And the Boomer opened his mouth to reply but instead of a groan, a stream of bile issed from it, splattering in a magnificent high arc right onto the Hunter that still lay on the floor next to Sweets.  The scent of the bile didn't make the attacking Hunter look up, but then, like a torrent of rotting flesh and hunger, the Commoners came through the broken wall ahead, heading straight for the downed Hunter that was liberally doused in Boomer bile.  Kenny stepped back clumsily, as did Murray, when the Commoners rushed to the prone form and started doing what they'd done to the Tank before.  A shrill shriek rose from the middle of the mass of Commoners, and suddenly the Hunter that still sat atop Hubert's now immobile form paused.

_What... what did you do?!_

_Get out or yoooouuuuu're next, Hunter aaaaaaaaaaasshoooooole!!_ , Murray jeered, and the Hunter screeched as he leapt back, jumping over the crowd to his other unconscious friend.

 _You li'l shits, this ain't over!!_ , he cried out – but the sound was frustrated more than actually threatening, and Kenny allowed his stomach to bubble loudly to spur the Hunter on as it picked up its unconscious comrade and ran off while dragging him along.  As soon as the two were well away, Kenny instantly turned to Sweets to see the Smoker covered in deep gashes across his head and his entire body.  The clothes he always wore with pride – and that smelled mildly like perfume at all times, because Sweets didn't like the acrid smell of his own smoke – now were torn and spattered with blood that oozed from the numerous wounds the Smoker had suffered; two of his four tongues lay by his side, torn off, the slime on them dried.  One of the appendages still spasmed lightly, as if looking for the body it was so violently separated from.  His chest was heaving irregularly, blood around his lips – when he coughed, feebly, more blood sprayed from his mouth.

_...Sweets!  Sweets, you okay?_

For once, the Smoker's groan sounded like nothing more than just that: a groan, pained and inarticulate.  It made Murray's laughter stop completely and it impressed upon Kenny the gravity of the situation once again.

_...We can't move 'im.  We can't carry him – you're not strong enough an' neither am I.  Oh fuck, never thought I'd say it, but I wish Dave were here..._

_Kenny-_ , Murray tried to interrupt him, but the Boomer continued.

_...I mean, he'd murder me, but-_

_KENNYYYYYYYYY!_   Murray's exclamation made him turn to him, to see him pointing at the side of the building they'd entered from, and who he saw there...

_May?!  May, what're you-_

_Kenny, oh god, are you okay?  We... we followed Reeves and 'is gang, and-_

_Yeah, yeah, can the mushy crap, he's okay.  It's his friend they chewed up._ , came the matter-of-fact comment from behind the female Smoker that had nearly leapt inside to walk towards him – when Paolo appeared, Murray tensed but Kenny shook his head.

_He's okay, he's not one of those guys, Mur'.  Uh, Mur', this 's May and her Hunter, Paolo.  May, Paolo, this is my friend Murray.  ...Look, I hate askin' it of you guys, but... we gotta get my other friend home._

_Ya sure?  He's pretty much Commoner chow, not worth the effort-_ , Paolo started, not grinning but looking away pointedly from Sweets' prone body – Kenny meant to cut him off, to say that this was his _friend_ he was talking about, but May cut him off in his stead, her voice raspy and grave.

 _...You sayin' you'd leave me laying if I was torn up like this by Reeves, Paolo?  Thanks for the heads-up- Eugh, that's disgusting..._ The mob of Commoners had dispersed again slowly from around the Hunter.  Or what used to be a Hunter: Kenny noticed, to his utter disgust, that what was left over didn't resemble a Hunter, or indeed anything that had once been alive, at all anymore.  _...Gods, he stinks, did you...?_

 _It was an accident, but it chased the other two of 'em off.  They... they_ toyed _with us._

 _Hunters toy with all their food, Ken._ , Paolo said again matter-of-factly, as if explaining an interesting animal species and not his own kind.  He seemed to realize his own tone of boredom as well and added a little softly: _I'm the exception to the rule, an' to a lot of others.  ...Look, if ya sure you want your buddy to die at home an' not in here, May an' me can help ya get him home – but only 'cause_ she _wants me to help, not 'cause you two're just saps!_ , he added angrily as he hoisted Sweets' ankles up at the same time as May picked up her fellow Smoker by the shoulders.  Sweets groaned a little at the shift but didn't make any other sound, making Kenny worried.

 _...Look, as long as he isn't in a Hunter's stomach, he's got a chance, Ken' – don't you give up..._ , May ground out, and Murray's comment to that settled Kenny's mood.

_Keeeeeeennyyyyyy, don't youuuuuu worry, Sweeeeeeeeeets is a strooooooong one!  An' so are weeeeeeeeeeheeheee!  We drove 'em awaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy, an' we can make 'em bleeeeeeeeed for thisssssssss!_

With a grim nod, he set off ahead of the group as they headed towards Davey's apartment again, thinking about how he'd make those Hunters that had attacked Sweets pay, just like that one Hunter had already done.  They'd messed with the wrong group of friends.


	9. Step 8: Try and hold back your friends from doing something stupid and become the world's biggest idiot in the process

_KENNY, MURRAY, SWEETS, YOU PRICKS, I WAS FUCKIN' WORRIED!!_   The irate screech met them even before they'd properly set foot in the building, Paolo and May still awkwardly balancing Sweets' still body between them.  Fortunately, somewhere halfway through their journey, the Smoker's breathing had eased somewhat and he'd stopped coughing up blood, though he now looked a lot paler than he had any right to look and his entire body, clothing and all, was still a mess.

 _Your other friend's a real charmer._ , Paolo reacted – Kenny nearly smiled until he remembered that Paolo, for all he knew, was involved with May, who kept looking his way with worry clear in her gaze and whose tongue kept twitching toward his arm and then back away, as if she didn't know what to do.  It made the Boomer feel tense in ways not even the three Hunters attacking him and the others had accomplished.

 _Daaaaaave, i-it's... don't shout-_ , Murray started feebly, but the Hunter clearly was past listening.

_WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YER GRUBBY NECK, SWEETS, I'M STRANGLIN' THE SMOKE RIGHT OUTTA YOUR BODY, YOU GODDAMN ASSHOLE!  MAKIN' ME WORRY MY FUCKIN' HEAD OFF, WHERE D'YOU-_

_Really charming.  Makes me wonder why you three are his friends._ , May reacted, though her voice was laced with sympathy and her eyes fixed on Kenny's for a second longer than they had during the way over, making the Boomer's heart leap up.  _...Well, someone oughta tell him his friend's not okay at all, or he'll flip as soon as we make it to the top._

 _Dave!!_   Finally, Kenny felt safe enough to open his mouth without puking all over whoever was near.  _Dave, we went huntin', and there was a pack of three Hunters, an' Sweets tried to defend us – he knocked two of 'em out but the third one got 'im, he's in a bad way.  I... managed to scare 'em off by pukin' over one of the two knocked out ones an' the horde tore him to pieces-_

 _WHAT?!!_ The sound from overhead was the only warning the five had before the Hunter jumped down the stairwell, landing on the floor they were climbing to and running from there to them – when he saw the state Hubert was in, he gave a strangled whimper.  _...N-no... fuck, no... the one goddamn time I'm not with 'im an' he's dumb enough to run into a goddamn ambush... Sweets... Sweets, c-come on, man..._

 _H-he'll be okaaaayyyy-_ , Murray tried to say, but the Hunter snarled at him.

 _Shut yer goddamn mouth, Chuckles!  ...You, with the grubby paws, let go of 'im!_ He seemed to mean Paolo, and the other Hunter – Kenny's heart gave a somewhat uncomfortable squeeze when he mentally noted 'May's Hunter' – relinquished his hold on Sweets' ankles only for Davey to grab them carefully.  _C'mon, you... 'ey, wait a second, you that Smoker chick Kenny's-_

 _Davey!_ , Kenny said sharply when the Hunter was about to mention his feelings about May to the woman herself.  He didn't need _that_ stress on top of the fact that he was basically willing Sweets not to die on his watch and not to give up.  When the others looked at him, he added a little less sharp and a little more pressing: _Don't think that's gotta be the most important thing on your mind.  An' her name's May.  Use it, wouldya?_

 _Okay, okay, Pukeo...  Sweetsie, you jus' hang on, we'll get you to yer room, lay you comfy... might wanna redress ya, too, so you don't have a fuckin' fit when you wake up..._ The Hunter murmured to himself as the six of them made it up the stairs.  And, as if by some miracle, Sweets groaned softly after the Hunter's words, causing Kenny to feel slightly optimistic about his odds.

If only his own odds with May were any better, he mused as he saw Paolo walk ahead of him, casting a few glances back at him and discussing something with May in hushed voices.

_...You two jus' happened to be there when Kenny an' Murray needed you?_ , Davey asked his fellow Hunter while May and Kenny were tending to Sweets' wounds, cleaning them and bandaging them with ribbons of torn sheet that Murray had provided.  The Smoker and Boomer were well out of earshot, talking quietly amongst themselves – one of May's tongues was wrapped somewhat consolingly around Kenny's arms.  Paolo snorted and shook his head.

 _Yeah, righ', coincidences...  Me an' May were huntin' those bastards.  Reeves – he's prob'ly the one that got yer friend – an' his two buddies.  They used to be a pack of six but May killed three of 'em already.  With a li'l help from a friend, 'course._   The new Hunter cast a glance at his friend again and gave a low growl, which was tantamount to a sigh, before continuing even more softly: _...May an' me, we been huntin' those bastards for damn near a month now.  Been all over town, seen what they did firs'-hand.  Lemme tell ya, you an' your friends are in luck.  Reeves don't fuck up much._

 _He's gonna regret he fucked this one up..._ , Davey growled, and his fellow Hunter nodded in consent before looking back at May and Kenny to find the two still engrossed in their conversation, though May's tongue had crept up from Kenny's wrist to his elbow – the sight seemed to provoke a snort from him, this one dismissive and somewhat offended.  _What?_ , Davey reacted instantly, thinking his fellow Hunter was dismissive of his threat.  Paolo in turn rolled his eyes and nodded his head at the female Smoker and the Boomer.

 _Don't get 'em.  I mean, gods, they're both such fuckin' saps – 's disgusting to see 'em fawnin' over one another, all blushes an' secret looks an' wishful thinkin'.  Would_ you _ever be so damn dumb?_ , he asked Davey, who gave a low growl-like chuckle of his own.

_I wasn't.  But I guess he thinks it's a lost case.  'Cause of you._

_What, 's he scared that I'm gonna bite just 'cause I said I don't like him?_ , the other Hunter snorted – before Dave got a chance to react, however, May and Kenny came walking up to them, looking tired and somewhat glum but otherwise okay.

 _Your friend's a tough one._ , May said, motioning for Sweets' neatly bandaged form in between the blankets.  _Feed 'im well, plenty of water... He should wake up tomorrow, or tonight.  If he gets a fever, put 'im in your bathtub-_

 _Yeah, I know how to take care of Sweets when he ain't well._ , Davey cut her off snidely, though his tone softened a second later again: _...You an' Grinny over there didn't need to help 'im, but ya did, an' I'm grateful for that.  I'd feed ya for yer trouble, but we ain't had luck with huntin' all day-_

 _I'll say._ , Paolo reacted.  _You four are the worst group out 'ere, probably-_

 _You haven't seen them hunt._ , May interjected, and a discussion enfolded between her and the other Hunter, under cover of which Dave crept towards Sweets.  It almost physically hurt him to see the Smoker lay there, motionless and pale and bandaged like a mummy...  Without even noticing, the Hunter growled lowly, a long, almost inaudible grumble that escaped from his throat just like the tears ran down his cheeks without pause and without being seen: a threat to whoever this 'Reeves' was to watch his back from that moment on, because he'd find him, and he'd kill him for what he had done.  Slowly, painfully, and with the utmost satisfaction.

 

Kenny was the first one to notice his friend's growl: it got drowned out by the discussion for the longest time, but then, when May made a remark that got Paolo to visibly recoil – and that Kenny wished desperately he'd heard – the Boomer was surprised to hear the steady, monotone, dangerous growl.  At first, he mistook it for a figment of his imagination, until he noticed the almost rhythmical shocks that ran through his friend.  The shivers of tears that flowed freely and were uncontrollable; accompanied with the almost grating noise that promised bloodshed in the very near future.

 _...Dave?_ , he started, turning away from May and taking one tiny step towards the Hunter.  Dave's answer sounded stuffy – a groan that was more like a whimper than anything else.

_Leave me alone, Ken'..._

_Dave, c'mon, you know he's gonna be fine-_

_Kenny, leave me the hell alone!_ , came the more articulate growl, now more angry – but the Boomer pressed on.  He couldn't let Dave succeed in putting him off, because if the Hunter ran right into that Reeves' grimy paws, without thinking, he'd be as good as dead – and then who would he and Murray have to care about them?  Without Sweets and Dave, they were as good as lost.  Without the Hunter and the Smoker and their constant bickering that was badly hiding how sweet they were on each other, their days would be empty and their lives dull, not to mention short.

_I won't.  Look, Dave-_

_KENNYYYYYYY, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAAND?!!_ , the Hunter screeched – behind Kenny, May and Paolo stopped their argument, looking startled and anxious, he noticed, but his attention focused on his friend again instantly – before scratching his nails over the floortiles.  _Sweets's hurt, an' I gotta find the bastards that did this t'him, don't you see?!  Don't you get it?!  I have to fight for 'im, have to show those assholes that tried to kill 'im that they fucked with the wrong damn Smoker._

 _Youuuu don't gottaaaaaaaa do iiiiiiiiiiiit alooooooooone!!_ , Murray chimed in – now Kenny groaned in frustration, not having expected his other friend to mingle into the discussion.  On second thought, he should've anticipated it, he mused in a split second's hesitation, seeing as the Jockey had been so quiet throughout the entire ordeal that he had to have been contemplating what to do and how to go about doing it.

_Murray, Davey, please don't just run in without thinkin' it through – if you die, what's gonna come of it?  D'you think you're doin' Sweets any favors by getting killed by the same goddamn Hunters 'at got him?_

_WHAT ELSE I GOTTA DO?!  There's nothin'... nothin' I can do... other than kill those asshats-_

_You gotta stay by Hubert's side an' take care of 'im!_ , Kenny said, motioning helplessly for the Smoker's prone form again.  _You gotta stay here an'... an' make sure he gets well again!  Y'gotta be here in case those guys track us back 'ere-_

 _LET 'EM!_ , Dave exclaimed in an almost challenging roar, and Murray added his own almost triumphant jeer.

 _Yeeeeeaaaaaah, we'll be waiiiiitiiiiiin'!  Let 'em come heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!  We'll kill 'em aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!!_ , the Jockey said, laughing manically, the bouts of laughter warping his voice even more than usual.  Kenny groaned once more and looked helplessly at May and Paolo, who still looked shocked most of all.  And then, he took a deep breath and spoke words that he'd come to regret barely a second after having spoken them.

 _You're lettin' Sweets down by bein' such a pigheaded asshole,Dave – or d'you think he'd want you to run to the Hunters that got 'im and kill 'em?_ Dave recoiled visibly, and Murray's laughter died away in a heartbeat – but then, taking the place of those maniacal chuckles, a deep growl sounded.  It was then that Kenny seemed to realize that he hadn't exactly said the right words.  At all.  _D-dave, shit, 'm sorry, didn't mean-_

_How d'you know what the fuck Sweets'd think, ya fuckin' dumb Boomer, all yeh been talkin' about is this May chick that jus' happened to pass by when you were 'huntin''!  All you cared 'bout ever since yeh met 'er, you dumb fatass, is gettin' in her pants!_

_That ain't true, an' you take that back!_ , Kenny groaned out, shaking his head, his stomach feeling so tight he wondered whether he'd lose control and puke all over his friend in a second – the friend that wasn't acting very much like it at the moment, cursing him out just as easily as drawing breath.

 _I ain't takin' nothin' back, you fatass, not until ya admit your mind wasn't on Sweets when ya were huntin'-_ No matter how sorry he'd been the moments before, when Dave cursed him out first, or how ashamed and painfully aware he'd felt of May's presence , now Kenny's anger finally reached boiling point: straightening himself and drawing his shoulders back, which caused his stomach to bubble ominously, he replied to the Hunter in the most cold tone he could muster.

_I was completely focused on the damn hunt!  Unlike you, who were lyin' flat on yer back-_

_SWEETS KNOCKED ME THE FUCK OUT!!_ , Dave screeched, though there was a note of panic in his voice – something that Kenny didn't notice, swept away by his anger as he was.

 _Only 'cause you were cursin' him out and sayin' how takin' him on was the worst damn mistake you ever made!  An' if you'd kept yer damn mouth shut then, ya could'a been there for 'im when he got attacked!  Maybe you'd been hurt just as badly as he is, but at least you would'a been there!  's Easy as_ fuck _blamin' those that were there, those that tried t'help but couldn't, when yer own stupidity got you safely at home with a sore nose!  'Sides,_ your _bright idea t'go out an' 'mark' some crappy buildin' for May got us in trouble this mornin' as well!_

 _Kennyyyyy, he didn't knooooow-_ , Murray defended their friend with a note of fear in his voice that was, once again, lost on the Boomer.

 _All I wanted this mornin' was to hear it isn't hopeless.  All I wanted this afternoon was t'have just one moment, jus' one_ minute _, t'forget 'bout May - 'cause yeah, I love 'er, an' yeah, I was thinkin' about her every day, an' yeah, hurts as hell knowin' it's never, ever gonna work out 'tween me and her, but at least I don't go 'round workin' out my bad temper on my friends, not when I know I only got my damn_ self _to blame!  So_ fuck you _, Dave!  Fuck you an' your judgement, an' your fuckin' moronic brain thinkin' you can go in there, find them two Hunters an' avenge Sweets – you should be with your_ lover, _not out on the streets huntin' ghosts!!_ The Boomer turned on his heels and virtually ran out of the apartment, not seeing, not hearing.

Only when he arrived in the alleyway again did Kenny come back to his senses, the extent of his actions sinking in like bricks onto his already heavy stomach.  He'd cursed out Dave.  He'd _blamed_ the Hunter for Sweets' condition.  He'd admitted to loving May.

_Holy shit, he'd admitted to loving May!_

She'd still been in there!

It felt like he'd been punctured – one stab, low and painful, in the gut, through which his life and his bile and his very essence flowed pitifully out of him – and he caught himself almost wishing for that fate.  How could he face his friends again?  How could he face _May_ again?  How could he look any one of them in the eye anymore?!

His life was over, he realized with a weak whimper, sagging to the floor onto his knees.  His life was over, with no Dave to look out for him, with Sweets all but lost, with Murray... probably siding with Dave... and with May forever out of reach...  His life was over.

And there was only one thing he could do.

 _...Time to be a moron, Ken'..._ , he sighed to himself as he scrambled up to his feet.

Meanwhile, up the stairs, the company of five was in turmoil.  The only one that was quiet was Sweets, the Smoker still laying in his heap of blankets, his pale face shrouded from the world.  Dave, Paolo, May and Murray were all talking, to themselves or the others, without listening.

 _THAT ASSHOLE!  OHH, IF I GET MY HANDS ON 'IS BIG FAT USELESS_ NECK-

_K-KEEEEEENNYYYYYY!!  KEEEEENNYYYYYYYY, C-CO-COME BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!_

_...I... Kenny, why... why.._

_See, I KNEW it, I KNEW he was dodgy!!_

The sounds they made – loud pseudo-attack cries, miserable chuckles and grumbling, weak hoarse whispers and excited grunts and shrieks – mingled and drowned each other out until the sound became one great mish-mash, a cacophony of hurt and promised violence and disbelief and fear.  In the end, Murray was the one to startle all of them out of their stupor.

_G-guyyyyys, Kenny doesn't aaaaaaaaaaansweeeeeeeeeeer, a-an' I doooooooon't liiiiike-_

_Speak for yourself, Chucklinator!  If he shows his face in 'ere now, I'm gonna KILL his worthless ass!  D'you hear me, Kenny?!_ , he shouted into the stairwell, adding a second later, when no reply came: _STONE FUCKIN' DEAD, ASSWIPE!!_

 _You're an idiot, Dave – no offense._ , Paolo commented off-handedly, causing the other Hunter to give a low, inarticulate growl and crouching when May finally cried out.

_ENOUGH!!_

However, when the three others quieted, it was only to find the female Smoker look at her male counterpart with a look that held the middle between excitement and apprehension.  A few seconds passed without anyone making a sound; then, however, a soft groan issued from the blankets again and Sweets' voice, more hoarse and mucous than ever, sounded from in between the blankets, a little muffled by the sheer amount of wool, cotton and linen surrounding him.

_Ugh, enough with the bickering...  I swear to God, Dave, you gotta learn to put a sock in it..._

_Yeah?! Well... well..._ It wasn't hard to miss the annoyance in the Hunter flowing away the moment Hubert sat up from in between the blankets, looking pale and tired and still thoroughly injured but otherwise very alert and awake.  _...Fuck, Sweets, I oughta strangle you for runnin' off like that..._

 _Not before I strangle you for bein' an insufferable prick, Dave, you miserable piece of Hunter shit._ , Sweets retorted instantly – both men's insults had lost any and all bite they'd usually hold, instead filled to the brim with relief and affection.  However, that ended abruptly with Sweets' next question: _...Ugh, where's Kenny?  I mean, not that I don't like our visitors, but Kenny'd be overjoyed seein' May again-_

 _Well, uh..._ , May meant to speak up, but Paolo very tactlessly and abruptly spoke up, voicing what had happened in one simple, short, painfully accurate sentence.

_Your Boomer pal got in a fight with, uh, mainly Dave the asshat here, shouted some things he didn't wanna shout to the world 'bout May, an' ran off like a headless damn chicken._


	10. Step 9: Try to get yourself killed and end up a hero.

_...I can't believe you, Dave, you goddamn idiot!_   Saying that Sweets was angry would be an understatement; the Smoker paced the main room of the apartment nervously, thick smoke billowing around and behind him, obscuring his face, but his voice sounded every bit as enraged as it had ever sounded when he addressed the Hunter, that now growled almost miserably.

_I didn't... I mean, he didn't... he should'a-_

_He should've protected me?  Hah!  Right, like a Boomer is gonna take on three Hunters just to keep me safe!  Dave, you_ know _Kenny's fragile jus' like I know it – you keep tellin' Murray off 'cause he gets too close with his nails, that's how scared you are!  One_ look _from a Hunter could blow 'im up, so why the hell 'd he have to defend me, huh?  ...So if I get it right..._ , he reiterated for the tenth time in the space of half an hour, forcing a new measure of calmth in his voice and failing miserably.  _...you blamed Kenny by sayin' he got his mind on May 'ere instead of our hunt, an' he snapped..._

 _...Hell, Hue, why don't ya make me sound like_ more _of a prick, huh..._ , Dave growled out pitifully, his face averted from his lover to hide how ashamed he looked.  Unfortunately enough for him, the Smoker picked up on his muttered words and answered the question.

 _You did a_ spectacular _job of makin' yourself a prick, Dave – what kind of moron insults ev'ryone he cares about in the span of two damn hours?  Huh?_

 _Okay, okay, I get it, I'm a dick!  I'm useless, fuckin' useless!_ , the Hunter growled angrily – but then, he groaned out a continuation: _...Hell, I was blamin' me, too.  Me, Kenny, Murray, you..._

 _The only one you should blame are 'those guys' – Reeves an' his li'l gang._ , May commented from the doorway, where she stood looking into the stairwell.

 _Yeah, I_ know _that they're the only ones to blame, I'm not an idiot, Smokerella-_ , Dave started, only to yelp in pain when  Sweets grabbed him by the collar again.  _Ouch, lemme gooooo!_

 _You just don't know when to stop, an' who not to insult, do ya?  May did nothin' wrong.  In fact, May showin' up 's probably the only reason I'm here – Kenny an' Murray couldn't carry me, not even if they tried, an' the two of 'em would've been sitting ducks if they did try.  An' as far as I can still remember, Kenny's the reason I got savaged but not killed – he puked on that unconscious Hunter, last thing I saw was a horde three Commoners thick tearin' the dickhead to pieces._  

 _S-so wha-_ aaaaaaaah _get the fuck offa me!!_

_So you had no reason for treatin' Kenny like crap, that's what, Dave!  After you pulled that li'l stunt of yours, when I knocked ya out?  Kenny was the one that convinced me not to walk away.  When you got beaten up by that Tank?  Kenny was the first to say you'd be fine.  When you made that Charger angry?_

_Okay, okay, I get it, I get it, lemme down!_ , Dave yelped, his head growing an ugly shade of puce as his sluggish, internally congealing blood had made its way to his head after all, but Sweets shook his head.

 _You're not gettin' back on your feet, you li'l Hunter shit, until Kenny's back in this apartment and you make up for being such an asshole friend – and believe me, you're gonna make up for it or I'm walkin' out anyway._ However, the next second, Murray returned, alone and shivering.  When their friend climbed into the apartment via the fire escape, he let Davey back onto his feet and looked at the Jockey expectingly.

_H-he aiiiiiin't there._

_What?!_ , Sweets burst out, and May instantly spoke up after him.

_W-what d'you mean, he ain't there?  He... he's gotta be there..._

_N-noooooo, he ain't in the stoooooore or on the lower floooooooooors o-or on the streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet... n-no-nooooooowheeeeeeeeere..._

For a moment, things were quiet, and then, May turned to Dave, her three tongues shivering ominously as she coughed out a rough sentence.

 _You.  You did this, you drove 'im off.  You're gonna bring him back, ya fuckin' prick.  Bring Kenny back here, or I'm gonna make you wish y'hadn't ever met 'im._   Dave looked torn between answering the threat in her voice with something equally biting, and sinking into the ground with the combination of guilt and worry that overtook him.  In the end, the Hunter settled for a disgruntled growl.

_Fuck it, where'd he run off to-_

_You ain't serious._ , Paolo commented – May's Hunter friend  had been standing in the background, silently watching the shouting matches that had followed his statement, but now he stepped back in the midst of the group, looking a little annoyed as he elaborated: _...You all know where he went.  Think like 'im, I dare ya.  He's a guy, desperate, angry, confused – he wants to impress May an' make up for whatever he thinks he did wrong for you, Smokey-_ May's tongue smacked across his face hard and he growled lowly, almost like an attack growl: _Okay, okay, 'Sweets' – for God's sake, May, you gotta stop hittin' me every other day, I don't do nothin' wrong!_

 _Yeah, as if anyone believes that.  ...So you're saying he... went an' started lookin' for Reeves?_ , she asked, to which the Hunter nodded with a soft grumble, like a chuckle.

 _Yeah.  An' I'll tell ya what – he's smart, that Boomer'a yours, so he's probably_ found _Reeves' hideout, too...  Okay, no time to waste.  Chu- Murray..._ , he instantly corrected the moment May raised one of her tongues again, glaring at her while he spoke, _...take me to the door into the alleyway.  Let's see if your precious Boomer can get away without leavin' a trace a sensitive Hunter nose can pick up..._

_...I can't do this... oh god, I can't do this... I can't go like this..._   Kenny's thoughts were a whirlwind of denial, fear, more denial, anger, worry, deep depression, and a hard, painful kernel of determination and willpower.  Then again, the Boomer knew, there was no one to blame for his predicament other than he himself, and he wasn't about to start taking pity on himself for being an idiot.  Just like he couldn't forgive Dave his pigheadedness, he couldn't forgive himself his stupidity.  _...Runnin' out here like some kind of idiot righ' after Dave got told off by you –_ by you _! - for th'exact same thing you're doin' now..._ Gods _, Kenny, you can be such an_ idiot _!!  But I can't go back.  I can't.  May..._

His heart hurt so horribly when thinking of the female Smoker that he had to grab hold of the wall for support.  He'd been such an idiot.  Not for shouting those things, and not even for allowing Davey to say that all he wanted was to 'get in her pants'; his idiocy lay in the fact that he'd let on that he felt, even now, that things could still be okay with her.  That there was still a chance for them.

Even Murray had seen that that was foolish.

 _...Oh lord.  Only one way to go..._ , he told himself, though he didn't need to voice what particular way that was.

The soft growls from below made sure that he didn't forget the danger of his endeavor.

He'd run, with nothing but vague ideas to base his direction upon.  The Hunters had run from the warehouse through the same hole in the wall that Sweets, Murray and he had used, so they came from the same side of the warehouse; May had said something about her side of the city being more bothered by them; the Tank they had hunted hadn't just appeared from out of nowhere.  It was that last thought, that last tidbit of information, that led him to their 'lair': a concrete maintenance shack next to a large parking tower.  From inside the parking tower, a trail of debris led away; where it looked just like a Tank smashing through a building chasing prey at the beginning, it soon turned more clustered the more it headed in the direction of the abandoned warehouse, and splotches of dried blood on the pavement showed clearly that the Tank had been injured long before he'd entered the warehouse.  But one rough spot had an imprint on the sides, not to mention the dent in the concrete on the left-hand side of it, and Kenny knew that the Tank hadn't just been hunted.  The Hunters had stolen his prey and, when he'd defended his kill, they had wounded him.  It seemed that they'd only blinded the Tank in the warehouse, though, because it seemed to have followed the three Hunters with his victim ever since the three had first crossed his path.

But if they'd truly stolen its kill, why had they still hunted?

A roar sounded from within the small building, ending Kenny's thoughts, and he pressed closer to the concrete roof to hear what they were talking about.

 _...that sonuvabitch pukin' shit is gonna pay for what he done to Hyde!!_   It was the second Hunter, the one that had tried to pounce first – Kenny was sure that that one wasn't Reeves.  When an answer came, the Boomer felt his stomach tense and bubble soundlessly.

 _Don't worry,  Burt, that shit's gon' get what he deserves – we'll hunt 'em down and kill 'em, one by one.  Pukey can watch 'is friends die.  Slowly._   His next growl was more like a self-satisfied purr, the Boomer noticed, making his disgust grow all the more sharp.  _Bet that Jockey's gon' taste like_ butter _, too, all soft an' tender an'_ fat _... mrrrrr, god, that makes me so hungry..._

 _Wanna go hunt?_ , Burt the henchman suggested, and Kenny was almost wishing for Reeves – _that asshole Reeves –_ to consent, but instead, the Hunter seemed to shake his head.

 _Not now.  Rilin' that Tank, then carryin' your knocked out ass around... I'm damn tired, I need a nap.  ...'Ey, you, where d'you think you're goin'?!_ , the Hunter suddenly screeched out, causing Kenny to freeze on the rooftop even though he hadn't moved, terrified that he'd been spotted... until a timid, low, _submissive_ growl came from within the structure and he realized that the Hunters were none the wiser, but also that they weren't alone.

 _...You said 'nap', I went to your bed, where else, Reeves?_ It sounded annoyed, even slightly disgusted, but with that definite undertone of fear to show she wasn't secure, that she expected mistreatment from the two Hunters.  Kenny wished he could somehow reach out to reassure the Huntress – because he was sure, dead sure, that the one that had spoken was a female version of the two he'd followed back to their 'base' – though he quelled that impulse and silenced that thought the next second.  He couldn't be sure that the Huntress was going to _thank him_ for that – there was every chance that she was actually an active member of Reeves' 'gang' that just had a more subservient role.

In the end, though, when the Hunters inside quieted and he felt like he should act while he still had the chance, he knew that he had no choice but to hope that the female Hunter wouldn't be against him as well.

 _...Here goes nothing..._ , he muttered as he moved down again, feeling both his fear and his resolve grow inside his mind and feeling like he was about ready to explode with the pressure of bile building on his insides.

_...Man, don't he ever_ wash _?  I can smell his puke for miles 'round!_ Paolo said it with a hint of amusement that was swiftly met with an answer from May.

_You should be talkin', Paolo, you reek of blood an' sweat._

_...Jeez, forget I said anythin'..._ , the Hunter replied somewhat huffily.  _Go an' talk to the other beanstalk, why don't ya?_

 _Gods, you can be such a_ dick _at times, Paolo, I don't know why I still put up with ya..._ , May responded, walking away from the Hunter briskly, ignoring his answer.  Sweets noticed her walking closer and sped up just a little to match her brisk pace – despite his injuries, he still was able to walk around fairly well.  When he saw her coming, he instantly spoke to Dave, who stuck by his side as closely as ever before; the Hunter growled a reply but then, when she came into earshot, he quickly walked off, leaving Sweets to look at his female counterpart with a shy smile.

_...He, uh, took Kenny's words more to heart 'n he figured – thinks he's got somethin' to make up for.  An' to be truthful, he does.  I don't blame him for not bein' there, but I do blame 'im for what he said before.  'Bout takin' me being the worst thing he did.  He can be such a damn idiot if he wants to be._

_...All Hunters can._ May's voice sounded weary, and Sweets looked up to find her staring into the distance, lost in thought, which got him to speak soothingly to his new ally.

 _Don't worry, we'll find 'im.  Before he does somethin' stupid._ , he added, and she nodded, her voice sounding mostly hopeful as she spoke.

 _...He won't be an idiot.  He's too damn smart to be an idiot.  A-an'..._   She grew silent again, though Sweets could guess the words she'd meant to say very easily.  It prompted him to carefully pant out a soft-spoken question.

_May, I... I gotta ask.  Kenny was... he's really a soft-hearted guy.  Great, smart... sure, maybe not a looker, but fantastic in 'is own way... I'm sure he would'a understood if you told 'im not to hold any hope-_

_W-what?  Why would I do that?_ , she asked, sounding mildly amused – Sweets felt a blush creep up his cheeks when he looked at her, giving him a wide grin, her tongues curled in a facsimile of a look that he recognized painfully well.  It'd been the kind of look that Kenny gave him or Davey whenever they were pulling his leg, trying to get him fooled.

_Well, I mean, maybe you didn't know he was in love with ya-_

_I know he was – only guy that would give away food, no matter if it's covered in bile or not, is a guy that's head-over-heels crazy for ya.  Or, in your case, a friend you shouldn't ever let go._ , she added, and Sweets got the fleeting impression that Kenny had, in his worries, started drafting up food divisions so that he'd get the most tender meat of their every catch.  Rolling his eyes, his tongues lolling slightly in an unseen, unfelt breeze, he nodded.

_Know that.  But... well, there's no delicate way to say this, but what 'bout you and Paolo?_

_What_ about _me an' Paolo?  Is that in the way of me an' Kenny?_

 _...Y-you expect him to share you with a Hunter?_ , Sweets asked – he half-expected the angry outburst that followed, and as such he was barely startled when his female counterpart straightened her back and coughed out a rough reply.

_Well, if he can't take the fact that I have someone to look after, then he isn't the great guy ya thought he was, is he?  I mean, Paolo's not leavin' my side, not even for the world's most perfect guy... what kind'f nerve would that be, askin' a girl to abandon her family-_

_Well, he-_ , Hubert started, intent to defend his friend and to say that she could hardly be considered very kind to both the Boomer and the Hunter if she expected neither man to be jealous of the other, but then it sank in.  _...Wait... d'you say 'family'?_

_Yeah, 'course I said 'family'!  What else?  Paolo's my baby brother, isn't he?!_

_...Oh god..._ , Sweets groaned out – it was so emphatically said, so filled with the sympathetic pain he felt for his friend, that the company halted and Davey was instantly by his side, which meant the Smoker had to swat the Hunter's hands away from his bandages yet again.  _Okay, no, lemme go, I'm fine-_

_Yeah, right, save yer breath, Sweets, I'm not gonna fuckin' let you walk on if you're in pain-_

_I'm not in pain, nitwit, I was talkin' to May and she said he's her brother!_ , Sweets barked out; for a second, the Hunter – as everyone else in the company of five – looked utterly confused, but then he grinned and backed away.

_….Okay, yeah, that'd make me groan too – Ken's a damn moron-_

_We're all morons, Dave, we believed it too._ The Smoker noticed the look of annoyed and slightly mistrusting apprehension on May's face the next second, causing him to elaborate.  _...The only Smoker that Kenny knows that hunts t'gether with a Hunter instead of other Smokers, or a Jockey or Boomer like 'im and Mur'... 's me.  He saw you an' Paolo and he figured... things were the same between you an' him as they are for me an' Dave._   When realization didn't yet hit, he added the much more short and simple sentence: _He thought Paolo was yer_ boyfriend _instead of your_ brother _, May._

 _...Oh my god... so..._ , the female Smoker said, looking like she'd been struck on the head hard with a frying pan.  Sweets patted her softly on the shoulder as he continued.

 _So that's why he thought he had no chance with you.  That's why he set out this mornin' on some hair-brained scheme of Dave's to try and 'prove his worth'... and that's why he didn't want to share you with Paolo, because he didn't wanna be only your_ second _man._

 _...Oh, Kenny..._ , May groaned, her shoulders slumping and a thick, almost luminescent cloud of smoke surrounding her instantly, obscuring her face and the healthy blush that had already creeped up her features before she'd groaned out.  _...You silly, sweet guy..._ Then, however, her features tautened and her tongues snapped once before falling flat on her shoulders, and she raced to catch up with Dave and Paolo at the front again, coughing out a few words to spur the Hunters on.  It got Sweets to quicken his pace as well, meanwhile shaking his head and musing how much more eager she was to find Kenny now that she knew the only thing that stood between her and the Boomer was a misconception.

Meanwhile, Kenny watched through the gap between the door and the wall, feeling so tense that he thought he'd never be able to move at all anymore.  Only twenty feet separated him from the three sleeping Hunters – the female Hunter lay next to the Hunter that had attacked Sweets, he noticed with some dismay.  One of the Hunters kept tossing and turning, squirming in his 'bed' of blankets and clothes, groaning along with the movements of his clawed hands and muscular legs; Kenny could only hope that the guy was dreaming.  But if he wasn't dreaming, he mused the next second, if he was awake and waiting for his attack, it'd be over all the more quickly, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

 _...Here goes nothing..._ , he groaned out, moving the door as quietly as he could so it swung – slowly, very slowly – inside.  He waited a few seconds – the restless Hunter gave a soft groan but didn't move and didn't tense, and the other two didn't even make a sound.  _...Come on, don't be afraid_ now _, Kenny, this's gonna be quick.  Quick, an' painless.  Not to mention you're gonna go out in a way that practically guarantees those scumbags go with ya – kickin' and screamin' like the_ monsters _they are..._ , the Boomer muttered to himself, slowly walking into the small room where the Hunters had made their 'nest'.  However, just as he passed Reeves and the Huntress on his 'bed', which was made with an actual mattress, he heard something over the loud, fast beat of his panicking heart.

_...H-help me..._

_...Huh, what?_ , Kenny whispered, turning to look for the source of the sound – and finding it when he looked at the Huntress, looking up at him with eyes that were still intact but very clearly blinded.  Eyes that were leaking milky tears over pale cheeks.  The female Hunter was crying, obviously.  However, Reeves lay right next to her, so Kenny couldn't risk them speaking anymore.  He made the gesture for 'come along' but she shook her head, motioning for the arm that lay draped over her middle, keeping her pinned against Reeves' form: Kenny understood that she meant she couldn't move, not without waking the other Hunter up.  Biting back a groan of frustration, Kenny motioned for his stomach, then for the two Hunters, and then pointed to her while shaking his head, hoping she understood what it meant.  He really, really didn't want to puke all over her – even though she wouldn't have a chance.  However, the Huntress nodded, pointing at herself, and then she pointed at the other two and growled softly, indicating her dedication to see the two Hunters killed, even if it killed her in the process.

Kenny paused for a second before putting his hand over his unresponsive heart, and then pointing at his head – both to signify 'you're crazy' and to mean 'I'll think about you'.  In response, the girl scratched something on the concrete.  It was her name, 'Teya'.  Then, she waved at him – a 'goodbye' as clear as any – and closed her eyes.

Kenny had prepared the moment very clearly and deliberately in his mind, and he executed it that way without any pause: he heaved over Reeves and the Huntress first and then, before the Hunter had any chance to make a sound, he emptied his stomach over the second Hunter, causing him to cry out.

_WHAT THE FUCK HIT ME?!_

_IT'S THAT GODDAMN BOOMER, HE FOLLOWED US!  OH, YOU PUKIN' SHIT, YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID!!  YOU'D BETTE-ughhhhk!!_ Suddenly, Reeves' belligerent screech turned into a wet-sounding gasp, like someone drowning – looking at the Hunter, Kenny was just in time to see Teya the Huntress withdraw her mouth from his neck, blood dripping from her lips and lower jaw, and she spoke just one sentence.

_...He's never gonna kill no one no more..._

_TEYAAAAAA, YOU BITCH!!,_ the other Hunter screeched out – his voice equally irate as it was fearful – while he was trying to wipe the goop out of his eyes.  He still was trying when the ground started to shake softly, and by the time he realized he should just attack Kenny before the horde came, the Commoners came swarming through the door already and it was too late.  Burt, Reeves' second henchman Hunter, died screaming and clawing.  Teya bore her fate with dignity, not even trying to escape when the horde closed around her and Reeves – the only sound she made was a pained grunt and then a long, soft, almost happy sigh when death finally came for her.

When that happened, Kenny knew he'd be next – his own bile was splattered liberally over himself, and even if he had a way out, which he didn't, he could never outrun a horde of hungry zombies – so he stretched out his arms and awaited the inevitable, his head growing light.  Darkness engulfed him the next moment, and a faint pain in his sides managed to make it through the haze of detachment, causing him to wonder whether this was dying before even that final thought escaped him and he knew no more.


	11. Step 10: Success!  ...Well, as much success as you'll ever get.  Oh, and don't forget the Survivors.

_...Well, hell, what a pansy..._

Heaven couldn't sound so suspiciously like Paolo's voice, leading Kenny to presume he'd ended up in Hell, and which in turn led to him squeezing his eyes shut even more ferociously.  He had to be dead – hadn't the horde killed him, after all?  Hadn't he felt himself burst when they kicked him?

_...he must've been terrified outta his wits comin' in here-_

_-liiiiiiiike a heeeeeeeeerooooooo!_

_Hrm, can we please go now?!  Dead Hunters make my skin crawl-_

_God, Dave, you're such a wuss – get over it!!_

Hell sounded eerily much like his friends mourning over his broken body, talking pell-mell without any of the reverence he thought they'd have.  Then again, they'd talked that way when he was still alive, so it seemed only natural for them to continue doing so when he was dead.  It pained his heart, knowing he'd never see them again;  Sweets with his soft-spoken, eternally worried voice and his equally eternal cloud of acrid smoke, with his plaid short-sleeved shirt and khakis; Davey and his anger, that hoodie of his pulled almost completely over his face so he seemed like he was all profanity-spouting mouth at times; Murray and his laughter, and his complete dependence on the others, not to mention those shreds of cloth he still called 'clothing'...  But no matter how much his heart hurt at the thought of never seeing his friends again, when contemplating the fact that he'd see May again...

_...It'll be okay... come on, May, this ain't no place-_

_I'm staying by his side!_

Now the Boomer was fairly sure he was in Hell, and the fact that the female Smoker's voice rang out so clearly in his mind – it _had_ to be his mind, because his ears were no longer functioning – had to be some kind of demonic torture, a knife twisted in his heart over and over.  It was effective, he had to admit: already, he felt like selling his soul for just one glimpse of May again.

However, before he had the chance to speak out, to say that they could just take his soul and have it if they could give him one last look at May, suddenly the world seemed to spin and he felt like he was soaring.  Had God decided he'd had enough?  Had He dispatched his angels to go and get him, and carry him to Heaven after all?

Too weary to contemplate it, Kenny's mind fell back into the darkness.

 

His eyes opened slowly and instantly he noticed the decor around him.  It wasn't his apartment but somewhere different, somewhere where all the colors had somehow been reduced to green and yellow hues, and the scent of herbs hung in the air...

Sighing, he accepted that Heaven _would_ look and smell and feel like May's appartment to him, with the instant additional comment that May's apartment without May meant nothing.  He could hear faint murmurs outside – hints of voices that seemed familiar.  May's, Sweets', Murray's, Davey's, even Paolo's.  Would those be angels, adopting the voices of his friends?  If so, why had they adopted the voice of Paolo, the man that stood between him and the most perfect woman he'd ever met?

The next thing he knew – and he knew the second he looked down – was that his body was intact again, the bile glowing green as usual and his stomach round but without the pressure of bile.  He'd always thought that Heaven would mean he was finally rid of his ugly body, with all of its blemishes and imperfections and downright fault; now, however, that appeared to be wishful thinking.  His stomach still bubbled and squeezed, still swelled and pulsed and _felt_ and _sounded_ like a badly functioning storm drain...

 _...Is he gonna be okay again?_   Murray's voice sounded odd with no laughter at all to warp it – then again, Kenny supposed that angels wouldn't be addled in the head by the Green Flu, so they wouldn't feel that compulsion to laugh constantly – and it was answered by Sweets' voice, the angelic being that had adopted it making a perfect mimicry of his best friend.

 _He'll be fine, give 'im a couple of hours._ Kenny meant to close his eyes again, but when his friend spoke next, his eyes shot open and his mind was hyperalert.  _...They kicked 'im pretty badly, but he ain't exploded so he's in the clear.  Probably didn't die 'cause he wasn't full enough on bile-_

...That, to Kenny, almost made it sound like he _wasn't actually dead_.

His heart raced, just like his mind, at a hundred miles a minute.  He had to be dead, why else had his friends come for him, only minutes, maybe a few hours, after he'd spoken such harsh words?  He had to be dead, why else would May be there?  He _had to be dead_ , otherwise why would he have found himself in _May's apartment_ after the female Smoker in reality probably wanted nothing more to do with him anymore?

But the kernel of doubt, of hope that he was still alive after all and that this was all real, that their forgiveness wasn't just due to some divine elixir of oblivion about the troubles of the fleshly world... that small, hard grain of realization stayed, and grew further when he heard the next words, spoken in a low growl he knew all too well.

_...Fuck it, Hue, I hope yeh're right – if he died 'cause of me an' that... that goddamn stupid argument we had..._

_He's gonna be fine, David, I swear.  Been a paramedic for ten years 'fore this happens, I_ know _when a guy's dead, don't I?_

Sweets had been a paramedic? Images of the first time they'd met came to mind – of a candy store, four lollipops... and of Sweets dressed in bright yellow-and-green rags that could've been a paramedic's uniform, now that he considered it.  But if Sweets was a paramedic, and he seemed to think that someone was gonna be fine...

 _...S-sweets?_ , he called out feebly, his groan scratchy because of how sore his throat felt – but he could hear the sound and feel the soreness, which meant his body was real, and he was alive.  _He was alive!_

 _He's up!!_ , came the shout, followed by an outburst of sound so loud and cacophonous and _satisfying_ that Kenny felt an almost physical pain in his chest.  The five came inside true to how they'd sounded before – not angels but his friends, his actual friends that had actually been worried about him.  First came Sweets, followed instantly by Murray who looked like he'd never in his life laugh again, then Davey, with Paolo behind him, looking appropriately disinterested, and then... then May, with tearstained cheeks and a smile on her face that could outshine the sun in the sky.

 _Kennyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!_ Murray leapt around his upper body, arms thrown around him in a bear hug that could rival a Smoker's tongue for tightness and strength – and, Kenny didn't fail to notice, the Jockey wore gloves and socks in order to not poke him with anything sharp about his body.  _Aw Kennyyyyyyy, we were soooooooo worried!_

 _You gave us all a good scare, man..._ , Sweets commented – he was the one to hug the Boomer next, his tongues awkwardly close and his wheezy breaths very clearly audible close to Kenny's ear.  _We found ya in that buildin', covered in others' blood an' layin' still on the floor – man, we thought you were a goner... but May didn't wanna believe it, and she was the one to notice you didn't have any wounds.  So we figured you fainted 'cause you were-_

 _\- a hero!_ , Murray finished, and the others, with the exception from Davey, nodded in agreement.  The Hunter gave a low, somewhat offended growl, making his words sound much like a sulking child would've spoken them.

_...He fainted like a damn pansy..._

_You got room to talk,_ David _, when_ you _kept complaining that 'the sight of dead Hunters makes your skin crawl'..._ , Sweets said emphatically, causing the others to laugh lightly and the Hunter to cross his arms, glaring at Kenny the next second.

_Don't expect a hug, ya fuckin' asshole – stormin' off like that, where the hell d'you think-_

_He's happy you're alive, just like we all are._   May hadn't spoken until that moment, and now the other four fell silent and seemed to hesitate between running away and very loudly making their continued presence in the room known.  Davey, finally, did the latter.

_I WAS TALKIN' TO KENNY!_

_And now you're_ done _talkin' to him, all of you.  Go take a hike.  A long one._   The four others protested surprisingly little, Kenny found, but their grins were ill-chosen.  After all, the Smoker wasn't interested in him, so why did her telling them to go away mean they had to wish him luck with their body language?  Sweets' tongue even patted his shoulder in the equivalent of a fist bump – he only did that when he was feeling in particularly high spirits, usually after a hunt that went exceptionally well... why-?  _...I believe we need to have a very short, very thorough talk._

 _M-may, if this is about what I said... 'm sorry I... put you in the spot like that, I didn't mean to-_   Kenny meant to go on, to tell her that it was true, that he'd understand if she couldn't tolerate him around her anymore, that it'd hurt to see her walk away into the sunset with Paolo but that she deserved happiness.  He meant to say a lot, and none of it got said, because in that moment, May kissed him, her chapped lips pressing on his – it was light, it was _warm_ , and it was not at all what he'd expected would happen.  _...U-uh... okayyyy... n-not that I don't like that, but... but you're..._

_Paolo is my brother, Kenny.  My younger brother.  Sweets told me you maybe got the wrong idea, considering how close me and Paolo are and considering how you only knew one other pair of Hunter and Smoker that had that close connection._

_Y-your brother?_ It took a moment for the consequences of those words to settle in fully – a moment, apparently, that took too long for May.  One of her tongues wrapped around Kenny's upper arm, holding him close, and all he could smell when she spoke was the scent of the lightest, sweetest smoke he'd ever smelled.

 _Oh, just_ kiss _me, Kenny, you dork._

He did so with the abandon of a drowning man clawing his way to dry land.

 

 _...Soooooo, how'd it goooooooo?_ The eager lilt in Davey's tone was a little too much to bear for Kenny, though it really failed to make the same impact on him anymore.  _Ya took your sweet time... 's that mean-_

 _David, you Hunter shit, back off before I throw you in your room, an' I mean literally throw ya in there.  Don't you have any decency?!_ Kenny half expected the Hunter to screech angrily, but he instead backed away instantly.  Noticing his surprise, Sweets winked at Kenny with his good eye and nodded.  _...Yeah, while you were, uh, with May, me an' Davey had a nice long talk 'bout how he behaved today.  To you, to me, to Murray, to May an' Paolo... an' I told him I'm done kiddin' around.  I am dead serious 'bout leavin' his ass if he steps outta bounds too much.  So he said he'd cut back on the disrespect, the asshole comments an' the puttin' you and Murray down.  We're a team, the four'a us, and he needs to start actin' a little more mature if he wants to be part of it.  ...Also, I got him to finally admit to Mur' – in_ clean _language, none of his cursin' every other word – that we're partners.  ...It felt like tellin' a kid about the facts of life, to be honest, but Murray's great an' he deserves to know what's goin' on._ The Smoker grinned and then winked at Kenny.  _Might be a few changes 'round here, too.  I won't be sleepin' in your room no more._

_Davey took you in, huh?_

_Well, I had to give 'im something, so...  Anyway, not that I want to hear_ details _but..._ The Smoker let his voice trail off in an all-too-obvious way, which in turn had Kenny roll his eyes.

_Well, at least you're subtle.  I, uh, yeah.... we talked.  'Bout how to make this work – she an' Paolo sleep in the same room an' all, so... we talked 'bout her maybe comin' here._

_Wait, y'mean 'here' as in... in here?_ , Sweets said, sounding a little confused, and Kenny shook his head gently.

_No, I mean... well, this 's a pretty big buildin', an' apart from us it's empty, so there'd be lots of space for her an' Paolo-_

_Or her and you._ Again, the Smoker winked, causing Kenny to once again roll his eyes, though he grinned this time.  He couldn't really help himself: thinking of him and May as 'together' was still new, and it thrilled him to no end.  Not to mention every time he thought of the two of them being an item, it made him realize how wrong he'd been before.  Other people weren't set to hurt you – only the _wrong kind of people_ were, and May definitely wasn't that.

_Heh, okay, ya got me there.  Lots of space for her an' me without my friends or her brother to be far away when they need us for huntin'.  ...Oh, uh, speakin' of hunting..._

_You wonderin' if Davey can tolerate two Smokers instead'a one?_ , came the question, which caused Kenny to chuckle – a soft grumble that coincided with some deep bubbling issuing from his stomach – and shaking his head.

_No, I was wonderin' if Davey can manage not bein' the only Hunter – May figured that we might have more luck huntin' as two groups of three instead'a one big group._

_...Makes sense._ , Hubert admitted after a second's pondering, smiling a lopsided smile.  _May's got a good head on 'er shoulders._

 _...Mmm, yeah, she does..._ Kenny blushed softly when he spoke, thinking back on how utterly beautiful May had looked, and how inadequate and unevenly matched to her sheer beauty he'd felt until she'd said – a little breathlessly in a way that wasn't due to her Infection, Kenny recalled with some pride – that he was so very handsome and so very _perfect_...  _She's perfect..._

 _Ehehe, Kennyyyyyyyyy, are yoouuuuuuu blushiiiiiiiin'?_ The warped voice and the seemingly unhalting laughter made it clear that Murray was listening in – but when the Jockey appeared, his grin was warmer and more genuine than ever, and Kenny answered it in kind.

_Shut up, you...  Okay, uh, Sweets, I need to go – May an' Paolo might need a hand movin' their stuff-_

_I'll come along.  Paolo might need a hand in helpin' the two of you keep focused on the world instead of each other._ , Sweets said instantly, to which a soft growl issued from Davey's room.

 _Sweets, you a- Hue, you better be back soon..._   The Smoker coughed a vague reply before setting off together with Kenny, who had the common sense of waiting until both of them were outside the building before asking.

_...What was that about?  Why don't Dave like you comin' along?_

_Well..._ , Sweets said in a conspirational tone, putting one of his tongues around Kenny's shoulders in a mirror image of the friendly gesture, _...Part of the reason why Davey gave in to my demands 'bout things so easily is 'cause Paolo treatin' me decently made him realize that there might be Hunters out there that wouldn't treat their partners like shit.  So, he did the only thing a Hunter in 'is situation could do, an' he became jealous of Paolo.  Thinks he's gonna steal me away from 'im._

_Well, he's got nothin' to worry about, May said Paolo apparently has a thing for female Jockeys, for whatever reason-_

_Yeah, but let's keep 'im in the dark, I, uh, kind'a like Dave all jealous an' huffy._ , Sweets admitted with a somewhat greenish tinge to his cheeks, which made Kenny groan in a display of faux disgust and then wave on to the road that'd lead them to May's apartment.

Days passed much more quickly, Kenny suddenly found, since May and Paolo had come to live in the same building as the four friends.  He still slept in his old bed every other day, mostly because Murray seemed to have a knack for upsetting Davey and Sweets when he wasn't there and he figured the Hunter and Smoker deserved some quiet time as well.  But invariably, the nights he spent with May were the ones he looked forward to with every fiber of his being.  Paolo had accepted the fact that he'd need to 'take off' every other night with nothing more than a muted growl, and he'd even slowly migrated to sleeping on the ground floor on those nights.

That was the reason why, on that day, he and May were alone.  Had they been sleeping apart the night before, then they would've had some warning; even then, had Paolo been on the same floor as them, then the team of three would never have managed to subdue them without sustaining some casualties themselves.  But fate had decreed that Paolo was sleeping on the ground floor when they came.

The Survivors.

 _...D'you mind taking some'a that Commoner we got yesterday?_ May was stretching as she pulled her blouse straight, causing Kenny's mind to wander as he nodded and hurried up the stairs.  He heard a scuffle further down, but, knowing Paolo slept there, he didn't stay in the stairwell to listen.

Had he listened, he'd heard the way the Hunter yelped softly, or even the muted 'plopt' of the tranquilizer gun.

When he entered the room where they kept their 'leftovers' – another idea May had had and the others had adopted seemingly without resistance – he ran into Sweets, who had a smudge of congealed blood in the corner of his mouth.

_...I wouldn't try to eat its leg, tastes like shit.  Must've gone bad... might still be salvageable if you cook it._

_What's the good of cookin' a dead guy?  But okay, I'll try to make somethin' of it.  Maybe it won't taste like shit with some spices or somethin'-_ Just as he meant to continue, a muffled shout came from down the stairs, followed by an indistinct loud groan that sounded like his name, causing Sweets to chuckle.

 _...You have a bossy one... Hurry on down, man, better see what she wants 'fore she blows up..._ Bot Infected smiled at each other, and then Kenny walked to the door, back to the stairwell.

The moment he arrived at the door to the apartment, though, he instantly saw something was wrong – long before the figures appeared, even.  For one, the colourful arrangement of shawls that hid the room from sight was gone and the apartment was plainly visible.  Another clue was that he heard May whisper – softly and yet urgently, as though she was drugged.

_K-kenny... run..._

Of course, at that moment, just when he got over his initial confusion and he recognized the danger he was in, the figures appeared, shouting something indistinguishable.  One of them raised a rifle, and Kenny tried to duck away, tried desperately to shield himself from the bullet, but the gun gave a soft sound and then, he felt a sharp pain in his side.

The last thing he heard when his mind was rapidly falling to darkness was a more clear sound from the figures.

“...Careful with this one...”


	12. Step ??? (Epilogue): ...then again, if you're lucky enough to get the girl, you're lucky enough to not die.

_...Name's Kenny Greene.  Pleasure to meet you.  I'd shake your hand, but they're still a little stiff from three rounds of state-funded surgery.  I'd rise to meet you, too, but hell, my legs are still recovering from the intensive strain they've been under._

_Anything you heard about me, forget it now.  There's only three things you need to know about me.  First things first: you touch my friends, you disrespect them in any way?  You_ die _, simple as that.  We've been through a lot together, me an' them.  There's Tanya – her little girl, Hope, turns five next year.  She's stopped callin' me 'daddy' ever since we found each other again.  That honor she reserves for Paul, the soldier that saved the two of 'em from their building when the Infection set in.  He loves her, absolutely dotes on the li'l rascal, and he's given his heart to Tanya.  And she, wonderful woman that she is, gave him hers.  They're getting married in the spring.  She told me once, when we were talking, that she met him and it felt like she'd held her breath for her entire life and he was the first one that made her relax.  I didn't feel... angry, or jealous.  After all, me an' Tanya, we were never... involved.  I wished the two of 'em the very best and promised them a nice weddin' gift.  ...Let's see, who else...  Well, Hue and Dave – they managed to survive the raid, and the treatment, and the surgeries.  Dave's blind, though – the doctors from that CEDA organization can do a lot, but they couldn't return his eyesight to him.  He makes do wonderfully – thanks to Hubert and his two cats.  He still has an appetite for red meat, just like Hubert still craves cigarettes.  ...Speaking of Hue, he's lookin' awesome these days.  He's traded the plaid shirts for plain green ones an' he got a new job in the hospital he worked at, as a part-time counselor to the former Infected.  Meanwhile, he's studyin', too – intends to get his degree in psychiatry, then he can have a_ real _cushy job an' rake in the big ones for him an' Dave.  They're getting married, too, an' Hubert's asked me to be his best man._

_...Gods, just thinkin' about how I used to say 'no' in a heartbeat once upon a time..._

_Anyway, closin' off the short list is Murray.  If anyone's more resilient than him, I've yet to meet that person.  His de-Infection was the most painful, since Jockeys apparently get growths in their brain as a part of the process – so they basically had to lobotomize the poor sucker while at the same time breakin' his bones an' mending them.  Easier 'n years of corrective harnesses.  He couldn't move for weeks as his bones grew back, but he didn't complain.  He couldn't talk for a month after one surgery – first thing he said to his friends once he'd learnt how to talk again?  “You guys are the greatest”.  What 'd he do when he finally got out of bed and he fell on his first three steps?  Joke about it: “Guess I won't be runnin' a marathon any time soon, huh?”  You could tell it was killin' him on the inside, the pain, but he kept strong 'cause of us.  'Cause he could tell Davey hated his life as a blind man, 'cause he could tell how much it hurt for Hubert to see the man he loves suffer... 'cause he could tell how much I was hurtin', not knowing where the woman I love is..._

_...May got de-Infected as well, I know it.  But Boomers and Smokers were kept in different facilities, and her surgeries were over much quicker than mine.  When I got out, I asked around but apparently there were no women named May that had a Hunter named Paolo for a brother.  Of course, it could've also been helpful if I'd known her last name, but it... it never really seemed to matter, knowin' that about each other.  We thought there wasn't a cure, that we'd be stuck like that forever... well, sure, it was dumb, but-_

“'Ey, Earth to Ken, Earth to Ken!”, came the amused comment, spoken in a sing-song voice, and Kenny looked up to see one of his colleagues stand at his desk.  “Did you manage to get those files sorted yet?”

“Hell no, Indra, I'm waitin' for...”  But Kenny had been so absorbed in his thoughts that his smile vanished from his face a second too late and the knowledge about who or what he'd been waiting for followed just a second too long after his colleague had spoken.  She smiled as well, in that conspiring, 'I know what was on _your_ mind, sweetie' way that only women had perfected, and nodded.

“Mmhmm, sure you were, not daydreaming at all... well, no matter, those files aren't top priority.  ...Thinking 'bout her again, huh?”

“...M-maybe.”, Kenny stammered, blushing a little, feeling like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and his face littered with crumbs.  He hadn't shared what had happened with a lot of people.  Only Hubert, Murray and Dave knew the entire story, of course – they'd _been part of it_ , so naturally they knew – and Indra and Tanya knew the majority of it, save for his antics as an Infected.  After a quick and secretive look around him to confirm that no one was heading for his secluded corner of the landscape office, he turned at his colleague again and spoke on: “...I get the feeling that it becomes more and more unbearable, you know?  Not knowing what happened to her, not knowing where she is... knowing that somewhere out there, the perfect woman is walking around, building her perfect life that doesn't include me simply because we got separated...”  As always when he spoke about May and how much he missed her, Indra's face turned sympathetic and her eyes softened.

“...Hey, don't despair!  You told me you met her one day right outside of here, caught a glimpse of her waiting to cross the street, right?  Well then, maybe one of these days, you'll see her again, standing in front of you, looking at you and opening her arms, ready to welcome you back into her life like you haven't missed a single day of it.  I'm sure she will!  After all...”, she said, winking at him and reiterating a point that many people had told him, and Hubert and David, “...love doesn't just stop from one day to another!”

“...You're right...”, he said, nodding softly, feeling just as much hopeful as melancholy, which led to him sighing softly as he rose from his seat, checking his watch as he did so.  It came as a small shock to him to discover it was already noon, which got him to change his plans from 'grabbing coffee' to 'grabbing lunch'.  “Anyway, I need a breath of fresh air – you got your lunch with you?”

“...Now that you mention it, no, I think I forgot to pack it this morning.  You're going to 'Mimi's Deli'?”, his colleague asked, smiling when she nodded.  “Bring me a ham and egg salad sandwich and a soda.”  She dug into the pocket of her jeans – clearly, she'd been thinking of asking him to go with her, but now figured he could use the walk to clear his head, because she got out the exact amount for the lunch she'd described to him.  “...And grab yourself something delicious-”

“I can't indulge, I've got to watch my weight, remember?”  Part and parcel of being an ex-Boomer were bi-weekly visits to a dietician as well as one of the CEDA doctors to monitor his weight, his digestive system, and his health.  If he gained more than two pounds per week, he'd have to be admitted in one of the CEDA hospitals again for a 'follow-up treatment', and he really, _really_ couldn't use another absence from work, not just when he'd gotten his old job back after months of basically pleading for it.  Besides, he'd made a promise to his friends – to Murray, Hubert and David as well as to Tanya and Hope – that he'd show the world that nothing could get him down.

Though missing May definitely came close to getting him down, he mused when he walked out onto the streets of New Orleans.

'Mimi's Deli' was only two blocks away, so the walk was short, but the bustle of people on the streets was very effective at clearing his mind and pushing his thoughts of May at bay.  The people had recovered perfectly from the entire Infection outbreak: only minor things were a reminder of that dark period, like the abandoned warehouse five blocks due north – 'where the Tank had crashed through, hunted by those bastard Hunters', Kenny mentally added when the thought crossed his mind – or the splotches of blood in some back-alleys, where the rain hadn't been able to clean it from the walls and the cleaning crews had missed it.  Mimi was a large woman, more fat than actual human being, but she had a heart of gold and made all the sandwiches herself.  Her deli was one of the best-kept secrets of the district, Kenny mused as he walked into the small store, finding only two others waiting before him.  It was his turn within the next five minutes.

“...Kenny, dear, what'll it be?”

“One light spread, no meat, low-carb special...”, he said, pointing at one of the boxes that stood next to the glass counter, adding when she reached for it: “...and one ham-and-egg sandwich with extra ham, plus one 7Up.”

“That'll be fifteen twenty, dear.  ...Want a liquorice drop?”, she asked, motioning for an ancient-looking jar that stood on the counter, but despite her well-meant intentions to cheer him up, he shook his head.

“Nah, can't, I'm already pushin' it with the doctors.  But thanks anyway.  ...See ya tomorrow...”  His mood hadn't improved at all with the prospect of his low-carb – 'they'd better call it 'low- _taste_ ', it's a disgrace...', he mused, rolling his eyes – meal, and he felt like everything in life was being denied to him: good food, the woman he loved...  He walked along with the constant flow of people heading back in the direction of his office building, letting the hustle and bustle carry him along again, and he lost track of his worries again.  When he wanted to cross the street, however, the light turned red and he halted, looking up at his building to see whether he could see his office.  He could see people heading down the stairs, people walking past the water cooler, but his own little spot eluded him, though it was close to the window.  A little confused, he looked away again and then...

She stood leaned against the pole of a traffic sign, just as beautiful as she'd always been, her hair no longer unkempt but permed and no longer looking lanky and dead – which, he supposed, was mostly due to the Infection – and wearing a new two-piece combination in a faded grey that suited her eyes.  But even if her hair was different, and her clothes were different, and she was no longer smoking a cigarette or holding a book – instead, she held a manila envelope close to her, like it was a lifeline – he was sure.

_It was her._

For a second, Kenny felt that moment of shock again, that heartbeat of pure wonder at seeing his dream woman right there, only an arm's length away from him.  For a second time, the light turned green and she took a step forward.

“May!!”  He'd spoken before he knew it, his lungs seeming to press all the air they contained into the single word, leaving him out of breath after only one syllable – or maybe, he thought as she turned around, it was due to the fact that he could not be so lucky to find her again in the exact same place and circumstances as they'd first met.  But she turned around as if in slow-motion, and then...

“...Oh my god, Kenny!”  She was only three steps away from him, but the distance disappeared in a heartbeat.

About a hundred people were witness to their tears of joy and that first passionate kiss the two shared, but to the two of them, all that mattered was that they were reunited at last.

                                                                                                                             ~Finis


End file.
